


The Gentleman's Guide to Color and Credence

by anauthorsoddity



Category: The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue Series - Mackenzi Lee
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-09-15 12:12:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16933041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anauthorsoddity/pseuds/anauthorsoddity
Summary: Fan-made sequel to "The Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy" by Mackenzi Lee.-Adrian Montague was born into England's elite at birth. His brother, Henry Montague was supposed to take his father's name and titles after his Grand Tour, but ran away with his long time crush to pursue a life of his own. Adrian also had an older sister, Felicity Montague, who wanted to be a doctor and tagged along on this tour, running away as well. Fifteen years had past since the climax of Felicity's story, and Adrian grew up with only a close friend in their father's estate. Ready to run away on his own, and find his siblings for a better slew of color, and trust in his life.





	1. ~*1*~

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, the name of "The Goblin" was give not us and I just felt to need to write his story, here we are.

When Chasity told me that she was to be married months ago, I laughed. I laughed because out of every person secluded to the local estates I was surrounded by since birth, she was the last person I’d ever expect to be wed. She didn’t choose to, her eyes were red when she had barged into the garden that day. She wept all her pain onto me, I couldn’t help but cry with her. Ever since then, I had been falling for an engaged girl who wasn’t able to live freely, let alone be mine. I was to be best man at her wedding, and to never see her again afterward. It’s not like the world around us ever catered to our every need, let alone want. I’d learnt that when I was young, when caught reading a letter on my father’s desk.

That’s when I learned about my brother, Henry.

My brother was someone whose name I’d never seemed to get out of my head. His name, the same name my father yelled out when hitting me for misbehaving. The same boy who’s rib blood was dried on the floor. The same boy who had affaires with Mr. Peele when they were young. The same brother who hadn’t been present in my life but it was as if he were there anyway. The brother I was taught to hate. The brother who Chasity and I had tried to evaluate months after her inevitable engagement to a man she hadn’t even met before the plan was made.

“I believe your father had to oppose something extremely harsh for him to break your brother’s rib.”

The sun was shining above us in the garden, something very uncommon in Cheshire. I was sitting on the grass, picking it as my hands had never wanted to stay still. Chasity sat on the bench, her one leg hanging off, the other atop the bench with her legs spread apart. Many would say this was unladylike, especially for a bride-to-be, but to me, it was the same girl I had tried to kiss when I was seven and had been forbidden to talk about it ever since.

“Cracked, if he had broken it my father would have mentioned an unforgivable birth defect. Like his height.” I contradicted. She had turned her head.

“I think it’s irrational that he had two bedrooms as well. Your father is one for dramatizing things.” She commented.

The locked bedroom across from my brother’s, told that it was another to fulfill his greediness. When I heard that I knew it was a lie, and Chasity rolled her eyes so only the white could be seen when I had told her weeks ago. The mysteries of figuring out who my brother was always something found in fiction novels we had read as children, but a consulting detective was nothing without his doctor when his father broke his wrist.

“My mother had been told to not talk about that room in front of me. What if there’s a person locked in there for imprisonment?” I asked, Chasity, with her dark eyes, stared at me as if I were really serious.

“You are indeed joking right? You’d have found out about that already. How could they have hid that so well when your father told you five different reasons for the blood stain on the floor before telling you the real reason?” Chasity questioned rationally. I shrugged, looking up from the grass to her pale complexion. The both of us were in the shadow of the tree that towered above us, neither liking the burning sun of the spring all too much.

“Maybe my brother is in there, forced to be starved for weeks at a time and bagged eyes for his sins?” I asked, she scoffed.

“You father believes a sin is you coming into his office stuttering and not him hitting you for it. If there were even a rumor about that, you and I wouldn’t be sitting here right now.” She reasoned. She wasn’t wrong.

It’s not like she ever was though.

“He’s to be out of town soon, maybe we can try it again.” I said, Chasity shrugged.

My father hadn’t let me come to London ever since months before, after Chasity got engaged I had become more anxious, naturally. When the only person you ever believed you could love had been engaged to someone other than yourself it can be a little nerve-racking to accept, its not like I had fidgeting hands before that to begin with. To spill wine when I was too young to be drinking onto a lord, only to have a boy with one ear come to try and help and my father scold at him then knock me out when we got to the Inn, out of me yelling that it was him who helped me wasn’t something to be fond of. The conclusion I had come to was the man who tried to help was far, far more attractive than my father, and probably younger.

As a result, I’m not allowed to London until I have to run the estate.

“Yes, if the servants’ brows aren’t painted on with such precession as they will be on your infamous wedding day, we’ll manage.” I said. She chuckled, but with a frown.

“I’d rather die than have that day arrive.” She said. My eyes had met hers for the first time that afternoon, the pining sensation I had felt for the longest time over her had alway come when I looked her in the eye. It hurt more as the days came. As if we were mutually wishing we could have ended up with one another. Her dark eyes were intrigued by my light ones, and I couldn’t look away. Not until I inevitably sighed.

“Hell is here for us to have fun in, not to be upset about.” I said. She smiled at the comment, giggling. I gave myself an internal pat on the back.

“Sadly, hell will have to freeze over soon enough.” She frowned. I furrowed my brow at that. Oddly enough, whenever I had furrowed my brow, my mother had tears in her eyes.

“Not with our case unsolved darling, just you wait.” I said. She smiled, putting her leg down and leaning her chin on her hands, and her elbows on her knees.

“Then how are we to solve it?” She asked. I shrugged.

“In time.” I replied. She groaned.

“Time is such a pain, it makes things we don’t want to happen, happen at the time it is supposed to. How boring, isn’t it?” She asked. I nodded solemnly, looking to her with the same eyes I had when we were young.

“Very, but sadly darling we have to wait for the right part of time to understand what it is we must.” I explained wisely. Sometimes, on the rare occasion I did outsmart Chasity, and she did know when this occurred. She says I got it from my mother, but I say it was a brith defect from the lord himself.

“Why is it only now you’re correct?” She asked. I only could laugh at this.

“It’s mainly because you can’t bring yourself to find something better to say.” I sassed. She rolled her eyes once more, she wasn’t like most girls. She had grown wide enough hips so she wouldn’t have to wear a hip pad, and even when her mother had nudged her about that, she had scoffed and scolded to not. She wore boots instead of heels, and she never touched any sort of powder. She also despised most other girls, and was the only sibling figure I really had. An older sister if you would. Sinclair had come up from behind, and I knew this from the certain way Chasity shifted her body a proper sitting position. I gulped, looking up to the put together man, who looked down to me.

“Sir Montague what on earth are you doing in the grass?” He asked, a towel strung over his forearm. Father had been angering him that morning, I knew it at once.

“Staying comfortable from the heat.” I replied, standing up with my hands twitching visibly. He had done a good job ignoring them over the years, handing me the towel to brush the dirt off the backs of my legs. I took it, knowing Chasity wasn’t looking on the fact that Sinclair was there. Otherwise, she would’ve been looking, as she was always trying to find a place to poke her nose for amusement.

“Your father had sent me for you, come. Miss Lenette, I expect your mother to be looking for you?” He asked, leaning his head to the right to make eye contact with Chasity. I turned around, looking at the girl who had the calmest and darkest eyes the world held.

“Actually, Sinclair, my mother told me to enjoy the day, as I am here. Thank you though. I’ll stay here if that is of benefit to you.” She asserted, she had a way of rationing with the servants, and it was a fair amount better than anyone else.

“Good tidings Miss Lenette, Adrian, please come.” Sinclair proceeded, pulling me by the arm around to the front of my father’s manor. I turned my head to Chasity, who pulled bandages out of her left pocket, as if she knew what to expect when I would ultimately return.

As we approached the house, my breath became short, and my chest felt as though it was caving in at a faster rate than it usually did. It was a natural feeling now, as it never truly went away. Along with this, the thoughts and vibrations of my father’s hits on my body day by day. He didn’t hit me every day, but when I couldn’t keep my tone straight, or I said something out of order, I wouldn’t be able to write the next day, or walk properly and he would hit me even more for that. I’ve only been hit hard enough for major injury on rare occasion, once my eyes went so fuzzy and I couldn't lift my head for two days. Another, my arm was in a sling for three months, and it still hadn’t healed perfectly.

Sinclair opened the main hall doors, the golden details on the ceiling were offending me, screaming at me that I shouldn’t be in the building. I wasn’t enough to be in the building, the stutters and the caved in chest, the inability to talk to people I’d never met, and the love for a woman who was to be married to a man she had only talked to twice. To complain about having to rule the manor one day seemed like selfish privilege of the lazy, but it was truly a pain when the reality destined upon you wasn’t the idea of bliss you had in mind.

I walked into father’s office, Sinclair letting me in before, as if he were more of gentleman than I. I looked to the man who sat behind the desk before me, my body shivering and memories playing at the front of my mind, haunting my every movement and decision. My eyes were wide, filled with fear. Blue eyes, like the ones I had, and a jawline that had softened since I was young. A powdered wig atop his head, and wrinkles carving out his face from age. I didn’t look terrible identical like him, but enough for me to worry that if I looked in the mirror I’d think I was the one who hit me so many years ago from then.

“Adrian,” He stated, looking up from his papers to find my eyes. “Sinclair, can you leave us be?”

Sinclair nodded, turning around and marching out of the room heal to toe. My father gestured for me to sit, I walked forward, tripping over nothing out of the fear of sitting in front of him. He scoffed, looking to me with annoyance as I sat before him, leaning back as if there were a knife to avoid piercing through the back of the chair to kill me.

“Where have you been?” He asked. I let out a shaky breath, one he took note of.

“Outs-side with Chasity.”I replied. His eyes had anger starting to boil in them, at least to my view of it. He tried to stay calm at my voice, one that had grown to be unable to speak straight when he was in the room.

“You haven’t had lunch.” He noted. I gulped, looking to the clock as the seconds approached to dinner.

“I-I wasn’t hungry.” I excused, his brow narrowed, and sweat pools started to form in my underarms.

“Well, I’m not here to interrogate you over a meal. As you know, I am to leave town next week.” He said. I tried not to let my internal reaction of relief be all too visible to him, and it worked in my favor, actually. I nodded, as if he hadn’t come to talk about this with me the day before.

“I’m to be gone for five to seven days depending on the weather. While I’m gone you are to keep the servants in order? And for God’s sake get that stutter sort out for once.” He scolded. All I could do was throw my head up and down in the upmost amount of fear, like I was asking for more pain than I already dealt with.

“Y-yes, of course I’ll take care of the e-estate. Don’t worry.” I assured. He shook his head, disappointed but more annoyed than anything.

“That’s not what I asked.” The man in front of me’s temper shined. I gulped as he stood up, leaning on the desk in front of him. Luckily, his punches weakened with age, but if he tried he could knock me out cold whenever he wished.

“I said to keep the servants in order.” He cleared. I nodded.

“S-s-sorry, sor-rry father.” I apologized, looking down and looking at my folded hands on my lap, shaking and running in circles with one another. My father came around to the front of the desk, leaning on it and lifting my chin to look nowhere but him. I gulped, he leaned down.

“Do you understand?” He asked.

“Y-yes.” I replied, nodding. I felt his hand collide with my cheek, a backhand with his weaker hand. A warning in his eyes, the cause for my tears in mine.

“Just like your brother, only far more scared.” He commented, I sighed shockingly again.

“I-I don’t understand why that’s such a bad thing.” I snapped back out of fear. His eyes sharpened to knives.

“Excuse me?” He asked. His grip on my chin was no longer just a finger but now his hand cupping it harshly, ready to crush it with a simple squeeze.

“Your brother was a sin to this world, the decisions he made, unfathomable, and for you to instinctively go along in one way or another like him isn’t allowed. Get yourself sorted out and come for dinner at six sharp. If you’re even a second late, forget anything about going outside tomorrow, doesn’t matter how sunny it is or who is out there waiting. Do you understand?” He asked, the grip on my chin tightened with the last word, his blue eyes dark like a storm on the atlantic.

“Yes.” I said. He let go of my chin, grabbing my collar and lifting me to my feet.

“Good, now go.” He said. I nodded, turning around and practically running out of the office. He looked pleased with himself, the hurt in his eyes if any at all hidden from me, as my shaking frame ran outside. Tears rolling out of my eyes as I let myself fall into Chasity who sat alone on the bench. She wrapped her arms around me, trying to calm me down. My stifled breathing became normal after time passed, her just holing me and rubbing my back to calm me down.

After silence and composure, she spoke.

“Where did he hit you?” She asked.

“He s-slapped my c-cheek and held my jaw and lifted me by the collar.” I explained. She sighed, not letting go of me. It’s not like I would be one to complain, as she was the only one I could cry to anymore. It wasn’t like my mother raised me anyway.

“You know, he probably hit your bother harder, but less often you know.” She noted. I looked to her, her strength falling a bit in her eyes at the sight of my red face. She was forced to get used to the sight, but I guess it made her more and more upset every time , which of course was understandable.

“I’m tired of being compared to someone I never knew.” I moaned. She sighed.

“I’m just saying he’s unfair and horrible.” She said, her tone an attempt to be hard but unable to.

“He’s gone next week.” I said.

“Then we will conjure up a plan to learn more, huh?” She asked. I could only nod, trying to keep the event from replaying in my head to haunt me in my sleep that night.

“Hey,” She said, I looked up to her dark eyes again. She smiled. “That gives you a week of none of this.”

I silently thanked the lord as I nodded once more, killing for a plan to come into my mind instead of the impact of my father slapping my face replay upon my shaking frame over and over for the next day.


	2. ~*2*~

When breakfast was over the next morning, I saw Chasity standing in front of me with her hands clasped behind her dress and her cheeks blushed at the sight of me. I couldn’t help but blush in return, the two of us standing there in tension, whether it was romantic or not was a question to be begged, but I digressed, holding out my arm and bending it at the elbow for her to grab onto. If I couldn’t wed her, or walk her down the aisle, but watch painfully at the side of her husband, I could at least fantasize before reality set in.

I walked her over to our usual area, by the tree. I gestured for her to sit on the bench, and she looked at me, blushing. We had days like this sometimes, when it was flirtatious and I felt that maybe it was a mutual feeling between us. All I knew was that the only mutual feeling between us was that we both didn’t want her to be forcefully wed. Not to any man she was forced to love. She hated that impression placed on aristocratic girls, and after hearing her perspective and seeing it myself, I never liked it all too much either.

We sat down at the same time on the bench, she leaned against the tree, wrapping her left arm around me and making me fall into her side. I sighed, looking up to her desperately. Neither of us were in a place of pleasure, and knowing our fates, we never would be if we agreed to be stuck. One of the reasons why we always tried to learn about Henry, a first step of rebellion. The air around us was warm as the June air was so. No more was it cold and rainy, but summer days in Cheshire had arrived, full of blue skies and color. With such color, the color my father drained from me all year round was being replenished to a state that kept me sane for such an amount of time. I decided that if I were ever to live my own life, it would be much more colorful than what it was now.

“So, what’s the plan with next week?” Chasity chirped, I looked up to her, realizing she was expecting me to give her more details after my episode yesterday.

“He’s leaving me to be in charge of the servants, but I have access to the office. I can make a good excuse for you to join me, and we look through the letter boxes and stationary. The servants will be preparing the return of father, so they’ll trust that I will prepare his office. It’s a small fib, nothing to be worried about.” I explained. Chasity chuckled, raising an eyebrow down to me.

“You seem so dissatisfied with the plan.” She said, a hint of snark with her tone. I couldn’t help but smile at the observation, as the damn girl never let me have a straight face.

“It’s not as exciting as when you say it.” I said. An unintentional attempt at flirting. She caught on, smirking.

“Would you like me to say it with such extravagance that will make you feel that it is much worth doing than before?” She asked, I nodded. Looking up to her with my baby blue eyes desperately.

“We will fib to the servants, ordering them to do things that don’t involve the study. We will go inside, and we will sift through letter boxes, me in your flattering attendance. We will hopefully find something worth our time, and take it. Leaving the office the same way we left it when we walked in, and becoming crooks on the run from guilt.” She said, her vocabulary immaculate as she spoke, her tongue curling around the words with grace. I always admired her speaking, as my tongue always caught my words between my teeth with a slight lisp. I clapped, she bowed her head, giggling.

“Satisfied?” She asked.

“Extremely” I replied, she smiled.

That damned smile could light up the world.

That’s when I decided that I was starting to fall in the direction where I couldn’t be caught, and saved from such attraction. I knew long ago that it was inevitable, and for an odd reason, I almost liked it. The wonder of being caught by the one who wasn’t really allowed to catch you was the silent thrill that would have to get me through the wedding and departure of my one and only friend. It would go on as my motivation, and what a wonder it was then, wasn’t it?

“Six days?” She hummed. I looked up to her, my head on her torso and lap, somehow not slipping onto the ground as of yet, with my short frame and even shorter legs. I was just a hair taller than Chasity, who was taller than her mother, but it wasn’t like I was taller than any man I had encountered. Montagues. The ones whose height was exchanged for shoulder width and leg length for torso length.

“Yes, and it would be dreadful but hopefully worth it.” I said in return.

“What do you think we’ll find?” She asked, I shrugged. I hadn’t thought about what my brother would conjure up. I imagine his penmanship moderate, I knew he had wit to him, maybe a letter? That was the obvious choice. Birth and school records, of course. Traveling records as well, maybe a painting. Only the lord knew really, I scrunched my eyebrow trying to think, looking to Chasity.

“Maybe a letter, some records. Not much I’d imagine.” I finally said. She scoffed.

“It doesn’t matter the quantity darling, it’s what he said in them.” She said, and of course she wasn’t wrong. He could have written one word and it could’ve helped me understand so much more than I already knew now. Just to have a sample of something, from someone who would understand everything that wasn’t Chasity. I loved her, but it wasn’t fun when it was just a pair of people in a world. The world had more depth, and the one we were forced into very much had ours hidden in it, and to find it was a task that took too long for satisfaction.

“Do you think he’s still alive?” I asked questionably. Dueling wasn’t legal, and from the words of my father it seems as though my brother would have died of accidental tripping instead of an intentional brawl.

“How old would he be now? He was eight and ten years, sixteen years ago, correct? That would make him four and thirty now. Older, but not like your father. Not anywhere near that age.” She explained, saying math aloud showing just how aristocratic we were in that sense of the word. Not many women knew arithmetic, not even men. I had taught her, so many years ago.

“Yes, I presume so.” I replied, double checking the math she had done. If she were wrong, the Earth’s tilt was faulty.

“So then, we must be in the same country as him. If he left anything, letters, maybe he mailed them. Maybe he has a wife and they ran away to Paris!” Chasity chimed, fantasizing the new life my brother established after leaving the hell of the estate we were both raised and abused in.

“He liked boys, Chasity.” I corrected. She raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t think he only liked boys. From the words of Mr. Peele and his ignorance about him from _that_ evening, it seemed as though he didn’t only focus on men.” Chasity said, a smirk to her tone. I sighed, trying to understand how that worked but then again it was Henry. It would’ve worked. He did anything to annoy my father and do what he pleased, it was how he was, wasn’t it?

“That evening was the worst dinner I’ve ever attended.” I conversed. She hummed, nodding.

“Indeed, his daughter isn’t any better. She goes through a palette of powder a day, not that it’s not normal but she makes sure we know what type of powder it is, and what boy came into her life the week before. The sewing group is hell, sorry, I’m going off.” Chasity apologized. She was aware, unlike myself. She knew when she was getting too much for the around her, me at most. Unlike her damned husband, who only wanted her for the one thing she had for herself that she swore to keep until she didn’t want it anymore. And of course, to give it to whomever she desired to. Sadly, men in our age never understand the words that pass through her lips and name her as barbaric, which only attracted Carl to her.

“No don’t apologize, to wait six days is tedious but we will manage.” I stated. She smiled to me, running her hands through my hair instinctively. The colors she had lost in our compound of manors were incredible, and she wanted them back as much as I wanted mine.

-

The six days that passed were all the same, a meal to start, going to the garden with Chasity, then to the nightly meal and off to bed .The schedule that had conjured itself worthy of the week before my father’s visits to London, but I knew he went to gamble with other lords and shout at the dealers to get the anger he couldn’t hit me with while he was gone, out.

I remember the one-eared dealer from our last visit to London, the last one I had gone to. Father told me to stay in the carriage, and as I tried to spy what was happening out of the small, wooden window pane I barley made out the short man, seeing my father, drunk and scandalous hitting him in the throat where his skin was already brutally scarred, and coming back to the carriage satisfied. The man was just an example of what lords did in London, and that was when I naturally decided that I would elope when I was older and never return home.

But, fantasies aside, Chasity and I had a job to do.

I had invited her to breakfast that morning, as her mother had chores to do and it wasn’t like her father was ever home anyway. She sat beside me, and my father looked over to us suspiciously, but understood. It wasn’t common that Chasity joined us for a meal, but again it wasn’t a rare event either.

When my father left, Chasity gave him a stern curtsy and a professional goodbye.

“Good tidings Mr. Montague, I hope the carriage abides safe travels.” She had said, he smiled, looking to me.

“Have the best of days Chasity, do keep Adrian in order.” He said, putting his hand on my shoulder and squeezing it. The single squeeze sent my mind into a frenzy, so many times worth of a hit there, surprised it hadn’t broken yet.

Once his carriage left, the plan was commenced. We went back to the table, next to the head where my mother sat. Her dark hair was up in an elegant bun, her eyes had a purple tinge to them. Stray hairs that were meant to be fashionable hung around the frame of her face, she liked to hide behind them. Like me, we are quiet when in most situations. She looked up when I came over, smiling her soft smile with plump lips.

“Adrian, what’s wrong dear?” She asked. I painted my smile onto my face, trying to understand the concern in her eyes.

“Nothing mother, me and Chasity will just be going.” I said. She nodded, looking to her and back to me, as if by instinct knowing my forever long for her to be mine inn her eyes. She only nodded, permitting it.

“Be back for dinner.” She said.

“Of course.” I promised to her. Chasity smiled, nodding in agreement. No need for assurance, as my mother looked up to her, even if she never admitted it.

Chasity and I rushed down the hall, me walking swiftly, marching heal-to-toe in an anxious fashion. Her skirt was in her fists, walking the same as I. Servants walked passed us, not even daring to imagine what we were off to do. We arrived to my father’s study after minutes of our adventure starting. Only a few servants there, dusting.

“May you be useful in the lobby, I’ve witnessed dust there.” I excused. The two looked to each other, trying to hide a smirk. The women nodded, going back down the way we came. The study door was shut, but alas, father’s dramatic ways never went away while he was gone. I reached up on my toes, unable to reach the top of the door frame. Chasity groaned, bending down.

“Come on, get on my shoulders, no one would be watching.” She said. I chuckled, raising a brow at the girl who was bent down enough for me to be held on her broad shoulders.

I obliged, but agreed. I straddled her neck, letting her easily and almost gracefully stand up, holding me steadily. She walked to the door, slowly, careful not to drop me. She aimed perfectly, her nose brushing the wooden french doors as I grabbed the golden key from the top of the door frame. The worries of Sinclair following us were lost, as he had gone with father to London on his upmost need.

She bent down again, letting me stand up, I brushed off my trousers and looked to her, pushing some hair behind her hair with a hint of flirtation but mostly of instinct. She blushed at the action, reaching out to show me the door, reminding me to open it. I sighed, turning and opening it. The fact that my father locked it when he was gone knew he was aware of my endless curiosity, but alas, the wit I had no sense of source from always won in these cases.

I opened the door with silence, the two of us sneaking in and shutting the door behind us. The single-windowed room was sizable, large, dark wooden bookcases along parallel walls, a desk in front of a grand window, which overlooked the country side on the back of the manor, no servant could disrupt the view. The red walls with sconces of unlit candles waited for nightfall. Paintings on the sides of the doors near where two walls met. Golden tassels were on the edges of the rug beneath our feet, blotches of dried blood within the run, a trend is what my father told to his friends, but they all knew it was but a fib from my brother. The darker ones, yes, the lighter ones, were all but mine to claim.

“Don’t stare into the pain, it’s not worth it.” She said. I hadn’t noticed I had been staring at the blood-ridden stains. My eyes looked to hers, in that moment I wanted to grab the back of her neck and pull her into a graceful kiss. But alas, I didn’t have that confidence.

“Where do you think the letters are?” She asked, her dark eyes ever leaving mine. They were filled wit hate same wonder I had for her. If only our could-be romance were this mutual.

“I want to assume his desk because he wouldn’t deem my brother worth enough for the bookcases.” I said. She nodded, turning in hurry to the desk. I followed suit, taking the other side drawers instinctively. She opened them, four on her side, I looked on, watching her hands unfold papers useless to our quest, ink bottles nearly thrown onto the desk and their contents spilt. She scoured through them, after putting it all back looking to me and shaking her head.

“Nothing, check your side and stop staring.” She stated. I gulped, she realized her tone came off as harsh, and this office wasn’t the most homely place in my heart.

“I mean…” She started, I shook my head, squatting down as a signal to ignore it. Opening the drawers, the top one had simple new quills and parchment. The smell, like cigars, quickly learning that he cigars were in the drawer beneath. I went into the third drawer, finding a stationary set different to those that had otherwise been in the office.

It was a simple strand of twine, letters addressed from the Mediterranean, and records of travels with border pass copies within it’s bindings. I forced the drawer shut, slamming it as I threw the set onto the desk.

“You found it?!” Chasity asked. I smiled up to her, carefully untying the twine and twirling it accordingly and setting it to the side. Two envelopes were on the top, why my brother would have sent two letters was obscene, but in the moment we are too excited to question it. I smiled as I took the letters out of the envelopes. But, what I realized in that moment was somethingunexpected, and the emotions had taken over my face in that moment, because Chasity knew that it wasn’t right. Not what I had noticed.

“What is it?” She whispered, attempting to take the letters out of my hands. I pulled them away, shaking my head, tears starting to form.

“I… I think I didn’t just have a brother,” I started, looking down at the letters again. Her eyes widened, notching the signed names, and the handwriting when they were put down on the desk. “I think… I-I think I had a sister.


	3. ~*3*~

Chasity looked to me with widened eyes, gaping at me. Those eyes, they could cut scars intoflesh if they weren’t careful. She took the paper on my right, where the neatest of the letters had resided. It was definitely a woman’s handwriting. The curves of the script so fine, and the signed name something Chasity was reading to herself over and over again. Her mouth twitching, trying not to read the letter aloud. She skimmed over it, picking up the details, chuckling at parts, as if she was proud of the woman who wrote the letter.

“Felicity Montague, she’s definitely your sister.” She commented. I looked to her, a scoffing look in my eye.

“How is that?” I asked. Chasity just laughed, smiling up from the parchment knowingly.

“You’re very similar. You both know how to convince others very well, and cover things up. She seems ver straight forward, and like me, envious of male privilege.” She detected.

“She said she wanted a life outside of aristocracy, and that she believes her advanced mind could be used well in a male’s world with an intention of making women more important to society but she meant it in such a subtle way no wonder why it was in the drawer with your brother. She ran away as well. She never came home.” She advised. I gaped at her, grabbing the letter and reading it over. She was right, my sister even mentioned amputating my brother’s ear from being shot. I gulped at that, not from the visualization of the blood wasn’t to blame, but the sheer thinking of cutting my brother’s ear off. It wasn’t something pretty to think about, especially of a girl who had a doctors’ level of intelligence.

“She seems so different to Henry.” I stated. She nodded.

“I love her. I want to meet her.” She stated, the grin in her eyes more present than before, I knew it too. She wanted to be her. She wanted to follow in my sister’s path. Unknowing of what she had really planned to do, as she was smart. Smart enough to lie her way through truth. I smiled.

“One day.” I said. She only smiled, looking to me with such pleasure I was sure my knees couldn’t hold me up any longer but by god’s grace they did. Saving me the pleasure of changing the subject. 

“What about my brother’s letter?” I asked, almost excited. She bugged her eyes at the letter, shaking her head.

“Maybe a man of your penmanship style can read this. Your brother writes like a horse.” She said. I looked at her confused, before she shoved his letter into my hand, I hadn’t realized how bad the writing was. It was horrific, but, I could read it fine.

“Is this really how I write?” I asked, horrified.

“Yes, read it.” She said. I sighed, looking to the letter, prepared to learn what my brother was, and if my father was at all accurate about him.

As I read, I gained an understanding of the setting. He was on an island near Italy, in a flat with a boy named Percy. I assumed they were close from childhood, it sounds as though father knew of him. He had become the grand tour horror story, as he put it. Ran naked and embarrassed our father’s name before the French court, befriended pirates, got attacked by highway men, and sunk an island. He intended to live a better life, one without my father in it for his own sake. He also didn’t scratch out what he intended, of the fact that he and Percy were planning to make a life together.

In midst of the letter, many things confused me. Maybe because of my own stance in my self growth, or maybe because of the situations I’m forced to be in. Two things had confused me in that letter. One, about a goblin having his fortune, and the other about ditching a french girl to whom someone ran away with and gambling away fortune. As if he were saying his sins were better than to whoever did the crime. I decided to try and figure out the Goblin situation, deciding that I was three months old when he had left thanks to the math we had done. But then, it clicked, and I looked to Chasity.

“He called me a goblin.” I said. She raised an eyebrow.

“A what?” She asked.

“A goblin, he said the goblin could have it all.” I said, shocked.

“All of what?” She asked.

“The estate, the titles, it all Chasity!” I exclaimed. She looked to me, startled.

“She called you a goblin?” She asked. I nodded.

“A character he was then.” She said, I nodded once more. Almost excited at the insult. She looked at me insanely.

“That wasn’t all. He befriended pirates, sunk an island, ran naked in France, and ran away with his soulmate in the end.” I said. She looked at me, wide eyed.

“If that were a novel, you wouldn’t be able to get it out of my head.” She said. I nodded excitedly.

“He said some odd things though, some disturbingly… relatable.” I said. She scoffed as if it were obvious.

“Why wouldn’t it be? He went through almost the exact same as you did Adrian.” She stated. I smiled. Looking to her with earnest as she checked the envelopes, looking to them very confused.

“What is it?” I asked, she pointed to the addresses, and then the return address, and then the stamp.

“They’re all different.” She said. I looked to her confused.

“How do you mean?” I asked. She sighed as if I were crazy.

“Your siblings wrote the sending address. Someone else wrote the return, and the stamp is from London. That makes no sense if they were in the Cyclades.” She said. I looked at her, taking the envelopes in my hand. And as she never was, she wasn’t wrong.

“What does that mean?” I asked. She rolled her eyes deep into her head.

“It means someone else mailed these to your father, not them. The penmanship doesn’t match either of their own.” She said. I looked at her, worry in my eyes.

“You don’t think they died and whoever knew them got these out do you?” I asked. She looked at me scared, going to the travel records on the desk, shaking her head until she found another. One of an african man, looking at it questionably.

“You father never owned a slave, correct?” She asked. I shook my head.

“Not to my knowledge, why?” I asked, going over to her side. She shook her head.

“This doesn’t make sense, the Powell's aren’t african.” She said. I looked over her shoulder at the page. The name, _Percy Newton_ scoured atop with records of a six foot man on the page. That he is in relation to Thomas Powell, his guardian.

“Maybe they took him in, maybe they adopted him?” I asked. She shrugged.

“From whom? It says here they are his aunt and uncle. That he was off to an asylum after the tour.” She said. I looked to her worryingly, overseeing the letter my brother had written once more.

“Anything in there?” She asked. I shook my head.

“No, only that my father knew of Percy, and that Henry was in love with him and that they planned to make a life of happiness together apparently.” I said, paraphrasing what was written eighteen years ago in a letter.

“Odd, that makes little sense.” She said. I nodded, gasping at a revelation I had. That if Percy was close with Henry, that the Newtons could say things about my siblings, to give us more leverage.

“What if the Powell’s know more about, all of them?” I asked. She looked at me as if I won a war alone and made it out alive with but a slingshot. Like my name was David.

“Of course! They live but next door. They could tell us about your siblings. They’d know so much!” She said. I smiled, enjoying her smile more than the revelation in that moment. It felt good in an odd way to know my brother fell in love with his friend and it had worked out. Maybe, just maybe, fate would do the same for me.

“But Chasity, what if Percy didn’t write to them. What if this means that they aren’t alive?”I asked, worried. She sighed, putting her hand over mine reassuringly on the table. Making me swoon and having something such as that to worry about instead of the way my father talked about my brother in past tense instead of present. It kept me thinking about the one-eared dealer in London, the one my father had beaten.

The possibility made me wish it wasn’t him, and I kept my mouth shut. But clearly that wasn’t enough for the girl who noticed as much about me as I did her flamboyantly.

“What’s wrong?” She asked. The sight of a short gambler appeared in my head, watching my father punch him through a carriage window in an alley in London.

“Nothing, nothing at all” I said. She sighed.

“That’s very false Adrian.” She said. Never wrong.

“I don’t care if it is or not but I don’t want to talk about it.” I said, slightly giving in about it. She sighed.

“That never did you any good.” She said. Visions of the paid gambler fulfilled me, I understood why he was so nervous when he saw me. Why he looked so much like my father.

This escalated to my father’s hits unto me coming forward. Only, in a daydream, here I was. With the gambler and myself, being punched and hit and beat by my father. He started hitting harder and harder, only yelling “Henry” over and over again. He hit him so hard, he gave up on me. Leaving me to watch the man get beaten to death not by belt but my father’s fist. He looked to me, ready to commence a much easier battle but Chasity’s yells woke me up before I could endorse more pain.

“Adrian!” She yelled, I fell into her. She caught me, standing me straight once she had me.

“What’s wrong? Tell me.” She said, demanding a response as I had tears in my eyes. I shook my head, falling into my father’s chair. unable to get up. I knew then that if I fell into the chair I wouldn’t be able to escape the fate of a painful, unhappy life ahead of me.

“Everything,” I stated. “Everything and more.”

“Remember how when I came back from London the last time? My father beat up a gambler? Well that gambler looked like a younger version of him, and he only had one ear. My father sent me to the carriage while I watched through the window as he beat the poor man to death. I-I don’t know what just happened but I envisioned my father killing him and you woke me up before he killed me and Chasity I’ve decided if I ever sit in this chair again I’ll be stuck in it. I don’t want this life. I want away. I want what I want because I don’t want this. I don’t want pain, I don’t need this pain and I’m just so done with it. Oh Chasity!” I vented. I latched onto her, everything hitting me in that moment.

She was going to get married, and leave me to run an estate that I knew deep inside I was never meant to run. I never wanted this and she never wanted that. We didn’t deserve this, it was like we were taught to rebel against the world built for us to run.

And boy did I want to run it over.

I didn’t want this to hit me, not now. A blessing that it did? I’d never know in that moment. It hurt so much, knowing she was trying to stay content in that moment. I knew that she could cry, but to her crying wasn’t something fit for her. She kept everything inside, like me. She hated crying because she didn’t want to seem like a damsel. I hated crying because it meant I was in pain. But this time it wasn’t normal pain. This was growing pains.

I stood up, rubbing my eyes and hers, folding the letters and putting them into my breast pocket. Filing empty envelopes into a pile, retying it with twine and putting them back into the forbidden desk of shame and polished wood to the sight of an untouched office. I took Chasity’s hand, ready to run but unable to.

“We are going to the Powell’s, and I’m never running this estate, and it doesn’t matter if I’m dead or not because that is the last thing I will ever do”

 


	4. ~*4*~

The Powell estate was a rather large manor for just two people and their servants. Though, Mr. Powell did deserve it, after all he was very successful. He had many ships under his wing, and was very big in the shipment business. He never had a child, but he had raised my brother’s supposed lover and best friend for life, Percy Newton. His brother had gone to Africa, and had an affair and came back with him, according to the stories that were told at dinners when I was little. I hadn’t seen the Powell’s in a couple years, and I never really knew exactly why, but I never had questioned it either. With Chasity by my side, I wasn’t too scared to understand more about the brother and sister I hadn’t known, and to get out of this hells cape.

The golden arches that guarded the doorway of the estate were polished, a white paint around the sides. The door knocker was in the shape of an elaborate bird’s wing, one I couldn’t recognize myself but Chasity gasped at.

“A Swallow, it usually signals sailor experience.” She stated, astonished. I smiled, going up and using it to knock properly on the door like a real gentleman, something I hoped to be better than my father at. A hustler soon answered the door, and behind him a pair of what looked to be colored sailors and Mr. Powell.

“Mr. Montague, Miss Lenette, what a surprise, you’ve grown since the last time we’ve seen you.” The butler said. The sailors raised their eyebrows, and Mr. Powell came straight to the door. This household was less strict than mine or Chasity’s, and much more respectful to people than what is expected of them.

“Adrian, how are you, please come in.” He said. Chasity’s eyes stabbed into my neck, following me into the house. Mr. Powell saw me more than her, and only really saw her when we were playing with one another as he was present when we were six years of age.

“Please, let me introduce you to Scipio, one of my clients who sail the Mediterranean with his crew.” He introduced. A colored sailor,and what I presumed to be a captain, taller than Mr. Powell stuck out a hand, reading my anxious frame with intent and a toothy grin with intimacy.

“Nice to meet you Adrian, are you really a Montague?” He asked curiously.

“Y-yes,” I said. Mr. Powell looked onto the conversation, smiling.

“He saved your siblings and my nephew eighteen years back, helped him and his crew ever since. I’m sure your father has told you all about it.” He said, Scipio chuckled, and Chasity took it upon herself to buy a ticket for us to jump right into what we came for.

“Actually, Mr. Montague never told us about Felicity, and Henry he had only ever scolded about. We actually just read letters from them a short amount of minutes ago, out of pure curiosity if there was anything good to be found of Adrian’s brother.” She explained chidingly. I smiled broadly at her, and she returned the favor. Scipio’s eyes widened.

“You’ve never heard about your sister?” He asked, astonished. The other man from his crew behind him, stepped up, equally as shocked.

“You must know about Percy. He’s this man’s nephew!” He said. I had gulped, nodding.

“Y-yes, we know about him. W-w-“ “We’d just like to learn some truth about them, maybe even write a letter to them, sending our regards.” Chasity informed, butting in. My voice quivered, and if she weren’t to be wed I would’ve grabbed onto her arm out of fear, but then let go out of awkwardness. My hands were racing one another as I beat them along my waistline now, and they didn’t plan on stopping any time soon.

Mr. Powell looked to Scipio and the other crew member, sighing.

“We were going to discuss income, but I’m sure we can discuss this tomorrow if you can, Mr. Montague.” He said, brushing us away. Scipio looked to us, and back to his employer.

“But, Thomas, I’ve corresponded the details with you, we can most certainly give them what they came here for.” He said, with all honesty in his tone. My eyes bugged, looking to Chasity, who hid her shock with her flashy smile of thanks. The man was doing us a favor, which could’ve meant that he was very close with my siblings, or that he just simply didn’t preform his duties well and wanted to discuss other matters and we saved his crew in that moment.

But apparently this man was one to trust, because Mr. Powell gave in and soon enough the five of us were in his study. The two pirate-looking males to his sides, and me and Chasity sitting in front of him.

“Where would you like us to begin?” Mr. Powell said, annoyance in his tone but the fact that he had employed africans had still shocked me. But then I remembered his nephew, whose painting was hanging in the hall on the way in. He was more of a real gentleman than any other man I had ever met. I admired it gratefully.

“Well, I guess a good place to start is what happened when they left.” Chasity said. Mr. Powell let out a hearty sigh.

“Scipio, I’m sure you can answer this better than I.” Mr. Powell stated, looking to the captain. He smiled, one that lit up the round of estates more than any ball ever could.

“Well, we saved your siblings in the Mediterranean, and got them back to England safely. Your brother lives in London with Percy, and eh… your sister is in Africa living her dreams of being a doctor.” He said. Mr. Powell looked at Scipio with wide eyes, as if he didn’t know all the details.

“Your sister travels back to London for Christmas some years, we usually see each other. It’s a nice reunion.” He added. Chasity’s eyes grew.

“S-She’s a doctor. A real doctor?” She asked, shocked. I smiled to her, the wonder in her voice matched the blankness in my head at the though of being the little bother to a doctor.

“Yes, and she saved your brother back in the day. Cut off his ear after a bullet grazed the side of his head from a Duke, stitched him up well. Still short , I don’t think anyone could fix that though.” He joked.

“Your bother is a character, he is very loud and opinionated but he tries to be as nice as he can. He’s very loyal. Percy and him, they’re inseparable. Percy is much more humble, less loud as well but they are both equals in a way. Felicity is the absolute opposite of your brother. Quiet, but very stubborn. They're all witty. Very funny as well. She reminds me of your friend there a bit.” He said, pointing to Chasity on my left. I looked to her, knowing that she would want to meet my sister more than anything in the world.

“Sos-so they’re still alive?” I asked, voice quivering and anxious. Scipio’s face softened.

“Yes, I actually saw then but a few days ago. They’re doing very well.” He informed. The thought of my brother with this man was something I’d never imagine but was something I’d never take for granted. Scipio was smiling now.

“They never said anything about a little brother though, or one with a sidekick.”

“I’m not his sidekick.” Chasity grunted “I’m his friend.”

“Ah, of course, I’m sorry.” He said, I smiled up to him.

“Next time you see Percy, please send him my regards.” Mr. Powell stated solemnly. Scipio nodded happily.

“I do every time, and he always sends regards of his own sir.” He replied, Mr. Powell nodded with approval.

“As long as he’s alright, I don’t mind a bit.” He stated, a stern, but somehow caring guardian. Still, something I’d rather have over my father. I’d take anything, over my father.

“Scipio, would they mind if we wrote a letter to them?” Chasity asked. 

“I don’t see why not. They’d be a tad surprised, and I’m not sure of Felicity’s correspondence but I do know of Monty’s. I can give that to you right now.” He stated. I looked to him, astonished. I wanted to hug him, and thank him for everything leading up to this moment.

“M-Monty?” I asked. The sailor on the other side of Mr. Powell chuckled, I hadn’t realized he had a thick accent until he spoke.

“Ah, a nickname, instead of Henry he likes Monty. His father, right?” He asked, looking to Scipio.

“Yes, your father wasn’t nice to him, he hated being called Henry.” Scipio said. Chasity chuckled.

“He’s not all to nice to Adrian either.” Chasity said. Mr. Powell wasn’t fazed by the fact, Scipio nodded.

“Mr. Powell, may I have some parchment to give this young man his brother’s address?” He asked. Mr. Powell forced a smile, taking out a quill and ink from his desk and giving it to his worker. Scipio scribbled it down, sliding it across to me after folding it. I smiled ,taking it from him.

“T-Thank you, i-if you s-see him b-before I-this reaches him. T-tell him the Goblin sends his regards.” I said. He chuckled.

“I will.” Scipio assured.

“Don’t show your father that paper.” Mr. Powell warned. I nodded.

“We won’t, we promise.” Chasity stated, standing up. I followed her lead, shaking Scipio’s hand.

“Thank you, Mr. Powell, we will see you at the wedding with your wife, correct?” She asked. I looked to him, a small smile on my lips.

“Yes, of course.” He stated, Chasity stood up, I followed. Scipio smiled at us, holding out his hand for us to shake. I smiled as I took it, less hesitantly this time. My trust was in him.

“May I eh, talk to the Montague boy alone for a minute Thomas?” He asked, my eyes widened to Chasity, who shrugged with a blind smile to fake her impression. Mr. Powell sighed.

“Make it quick, we have matters to discuss.” He said.

Scipio nodded, taking me by the arm and into the small corridor outside, a little down the hall but not far enough to meet the corner. Gold furnishings in the corners and lining the walls, expensive, wealthy because of how they were. Unlike many things I had ever seen, and wishing it could be like that but only for those who were lost. Those like me, so we could have lives worth living.

“First off, if you need anything, my crew will forever have your support, okay mate?” He started, I nodded nervously, the tension wracked my bones and he noticed it.

“Boy, loosen up I won’t hit ya like your old man.” He said. I looked at him with curiosity, at how he knew he had hit me.

“H-How do you know that?” I asked.

“Because of the way your friend over there talks for you, and the way your stood in front of Thomas like he was going to murder you. Calm down boy, no one is going to hurt you. You need to fight for yourself too. Your brother is the same.” He said. I looked up to him in earnest.

“I-If you see him. Tell him I’m coming, won’t you?” I asked. He smiled.

“I know a letter wouldn’t be the end of it. You Montague’s never stick to the plan, and I love it.” He commented. I smirked and chuckled.

“What do you have to tell me?” I asked. He sighed, a plain smile upon his face.

“I just wanted to tell you that the world is wide, and just by looking at you I knew you were your brother’s brother. Just by the way you hold yourself, it’s the same. Well, maybe not the exact same but the way you walk is the same. Don’t let your father’s words stab your heart, okay? You’re a good man. Anyone who sees that can understand it too.” He went on. “I don’t believe many have told you that I presume.”

It must’ve been the way my eyes had reacted, or the way my cheeks had flushed at the pirate-looking man. How my hair fell in front of my face in what I had assumed to be shocked as no one had ever told me anything like that about myself before. I never put myself to a higher standard, and here it was. A man, privateer if you will, complementing me to make me feel like I could trust him. It could’ve bee na trap, but if it was there would’ve been a twitch or tinge. There wasn’t. Credence had never been a virtue, but again, not all things had to stay the same.

“If you want to know anything more about Monty or Felicity, ask away before he calls me back.” He offered. A floodgate of questions rushed through my brain.

“H-How do I even begin to talk t-to them?” I asked. He chuckled.

“Monty would just want you to be comfortable, Felicity… you can’t have walls around her because she’s one of those who know the truth without you saying it.” He said. I tried thinking of them, total opposites, but every opposite had an identical within. So I had began putting pieces together and it was indeed scary.

“They must bud heads, I’m sure.” I said. He chuckled, nodding.

“Yes, your sister wants nothing to do with romance, meanwhile your brother is infatuated with Percy.” He said. I smiled.

“He seems a bit prude.” I said, my tone becoming more lax to the gentleman.

“Only in the best way, he’s very loyal.” Scipio chimed.

“My sister?” I asked.

“No less than he, a bit more ambitious, and much less of a klutz, but no less loyal,”He stated, seeming to smile at the thought of him. Behind, a door opened, and out came the sailor he was on the same crew with.

“Mr. Powell is waiting.” He said.

“Tell him I’ll be there in such a moment Ebrahim.” He ordered. Ebrahim nodded and shut the door behind him, leading Scipio to look at me.

“If you need anything, Mr. Powell will send our corresponding address. I hope you find Monty, and send him our regards if you do.” He said, and after rumpling my hair, he left into the office to discuss things I had no ties with, but wanted to listen to more than what my father would teach me about running an estate.

I walked down the golden decorated hall to the front of the study, where Chasity stood with her arms crossed, impatient. She perked up when she saw me, smiling.

“What did he say?” She asked.

“That if we need anything, to come to him. He knew from the start I wasn’t looking to just send a letter.” I said. She chuckled.

“What luck did we gain from for this?” She asked. I smiled and shrugged before leaving, unable to find words to form an answer.


	5. ~*5*~

At the estate, inside, we wandered the halls of the bedroom wing. The red and gold wallpaper with espresso borders running through the middle never clashed but blended. Chasity said that they were my colors, though I found it riveting to think someone could say I was a color. I didn’t oblige as we walked past the bedrooms. Mine with its door shut, the one next to it was presumably my brothers, and the locked one across I had come to the conclusion was Felicity’s. Doors all the same, the only difference would be the locks.

Chasity pulled out a pin from her hair and looked around, squatting down and pushing it into the key hole that belonged to my brother’s room.

“Is this really a good idea?” I asked shakily. She scoffed.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” She asked. I shrugged sarcastically.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s because it’s the bedroom of my sister who hasn’t been home in sixteen years. Oh and did you forget that we aren’t supposed to know of her existence?!” I asked, she hushed me, rolling her eyes as if she had already knew and assumed that I had comprehended it when she bent down to do the deed. She fiddled with the pin, eventually leading to a click and a smirk as she pulled the pin out of the elaborate lock and stood up, looking to me.

“Oh, and maybe it’s just the thing we need to do as you aren’t supposed to know a thing about her.” She sounded, looking up and down the hall to see if there were any maids or servants, to which there were none. I double checked as she pushed the door inward, looking to me with her dark eyes, a glimmer of excitement to them.

The door swung open slowly to the control of Chasity’s grip. It revealed a world preciously unknown behind it, one with dark floors that matched the accent border on the wall in the halls in that very wing of the house. The walls were painted a shade of lavender, but at a first glance it could’ve been blue. The bed sheets were an elegant white with lace, a vanity that was far too dusty and perfume bottles that were filled with untouched makeup brushes and pallets of powder. A large bookcase sat opposite of the bed, filled with books and trinkets. A wardrobe sat beside the door to the right, and there were candleholders along the walls in silver. Small, ivory candles sat in the dishes, seemingly waiting impatiently to be lit once more. The room was left immaculate, and in the corner, where trunks for travels would’ve been sat were empty, showing that she indeed hadn’t been home since before the grand tour.

I silently shut the door behind Chasity and I, she looked around, the carpets on the ground reflected the wall colors with hints of pale blues and greens with gold and silver tassels lining the outside. The hardwood underneath was sturdy and didn’t creak, the only sound was the sound of our shoes hitting against it. Chasity looked to me, and then to the bookcase. Four shelves of a dark oak split in the middle, held to the brim with lovers tales, the only other thing to be found was a spectacles case on the second highest shelf. I looked to Chasity. She raised an eyebrow.

“What would a doctor be doing with lovers tales, especially one who didn’t want a thing to do with love?” She asked.

I looked behind her, scrunching my hand in and out of itself impatiently. It didn’t feel right to be in there, the worry of being caught was agonizing my brain, eating it whole. Chasity didn’t seem to have read that though, as she took out _Romeo and Juliet_ from the shelf eye level to her, finding it to be hardcover, like all the rest. Though, when she opened it there were sketches of bonds to be found in the hand, and she took the book jacket off, smiling broadly. I looked to her, shocked.

“She hid them?” I asked. Chasity’s head snapped up to have her meet my eyes, she gave me a scoffing look, as if I were misdefining the color of the sky.

“Of course she did,” She exclaimed, waving the book around. “No girl can plainly want to be a doctor, you must hide it. She did this all in secret, and cleverly as well.”

“No doubt about that.” I commented, taking _Hamlet_ out of the shelf, quickly learning that it was really a guide on alchemy.

“Alchemy?” I asked.

“It’s part of doctoring, but very unadvised.” She said. She was astonished.

“She was clever.” I said.

“Check the vanity, see if there are any letters about where she was to go. I’ll stay here.” Chasity commanded, I scoffed.

“It looks as if this was never used Chas, I’ll check the bedside tables instead.” I replied, going the extra mile and going to the bed.

Silk drapes hung from her canopy as I bent down and opened rusting drawers who hadn’t been touched in nearly two decades. I sifted through needles and threads, pricking myself more than once, and then to the bottom to find unfinished embroideries. I ventured to the drawer above it, the only other one on that side of the bed. The top drawer was filled with white cloth and cotton, and seeming sewing needles and bled on clothes. White belts, and sketches of inventions. I looked to Chasity.

“What may this be?” I asked. Chasity ran to my side, sifting through the inventors’ papers. Her expression went back and forth from shocked to impressed, looking into the drawer to find the products.

“What is it?” I asked. She only laughed.

“She was inventing a less righteous way to catch menstruation blood. It seemed as though it worked as well.” She said. I scrunched my nose at the thought, looking to her as if she were mad. She hit my arm, grunting.

“Oh come on, it’s not wonderful it’s quite the opposite.” She informed.

“I never thought it was, or said anything. Please, let’s drop this subject, please.” I pleaded, She sighed, shoving the drawer back into place. I rounded to the other side of the seemingly queen sized bed, and Chaisty retreated to the other side of the bedroom to the bookcase. I looked behind, to find but a few novels on the floor as she read notes my sister kept in them.

I opened the bottom drawer of the other side’s bedside table. There to be found was stacks of fresh parchment and new quills, lined with dark feathers. Unopened ink bottles sat beside them. I smiled and shut the drawer carefully, moving to the top drawer to find just what I wanted.

Letters, but only one.

The letter wasn’t a long one either, one to an old friend. One named Johanna, one of anger and disappointment, written when she was about three after ten years of age. I read through it carefully, noting a few things. When her temper was touched, she lashed harshly back, and when she did lash she used extensive vocabulary to hide behind. She didn’t like girls who were mainstream, or were very girly, and that her friend betrayed her. This girl Johana must’ve been close to Felicity as well, because from what I had read they fantasized about the sciences together, and how it had changed for the distastefulness Felicity found in a girl who decided she liked powder a little more than playing the mud with her in the gardens as they grew.

“What did you find?”

I flinched at the voice next to me, and Chasity put a hand on my shoulder, holding me there with assurance. I sighed, sympathetically smiling up to her.

“A letter, not sent either. It was hasty too, she was angry at her friend. She was thirteen though, so it couldn’t have done anything to interfere with the tour, as she was fifteen when she set off on the continent with Monty.” I explained. She sighed.

“Anything else?” She asked.

“No, it seems to have been reserved for letters then. Her stationary is in the drawer underneath, untouched and brand new.” I informed. She sighed.

“Maybe the vanity will hold answers.” She said, looking over.

“Not a shot, from this I can know that she hadn’t touched that thing willingly in her life, look what she said about her old friend in this!” I said. Chasity took the letter out of my hands, skimming through it accordingly, and chuckling.

“I understand that accusation. Girls our age aren’t all too polite to those who come off as boyish and odd.” She commented. I rolled my eyes, and she sighed.

“Okay fine, nothing concluded to be in the vanity, now what?” She asked. I shrugged.

“Why don’t we venture across the hall?” I asked.

“But what if there is more to be found?” She asked. I shook my head.

“If she was to be dropped at a finishing school that year, she would’ve brought all the things she would’ve deemed necessary, including journals and books she would’ve wanted to balance on her head, with her.” I said.

“That’s not how it works Adrian.” She said with an incredibly straight face.

“You understand the point I’m trying to make.” I said. She sighed.

“Yes, I do. But across the hall I’m going to assume won’t be as put together as this. I’m going to do one more search, you can sit on her bed and dream of the stars for all I care, I’m looking again.” She said.

I chuckled as she went and ventured to the other side of the room once more. I put the letter back into the drawer with shaky hands, closing it carefully and lying on my back on my sister’s bed. It hadn’t been touched in so long the dust buildup puffed when I had landed onto it. The drapes above were velvet and silk, an odd combination but for a reason that was unknown to me, it worked with one another. Lace was draped as an accent as well, it seemed as though stars were formed in the creases of the fabric, where I daydreamed about my siblings, trying to imagine who they were and if we were to get along if I ever met them.

My mind wandered to Felicity, who I now understood was very misunderstood and lonely, but liked it in her own varying way. She didn’t want or need a romantic partner, and she was incredibly smart and wished to be a man instead of a woman so she could advance in society. My brother, I had concluded was an everliving romantic that was abused from a young age like me by our father. He had a male partner who was his childhood best friend and they were living a life of bliss somewhere in London. He was also misunderstood, and though he was flamboyant he dealt with his own deal of pain from our father. They both ran away for a better life after the mishaps of the derailing from their tour path. It was the perfect grand tour horror story, as my brother had put it in his letter to father. I wondered why he called me a Goblin, and tried to imagine what our reunion would be like after all this time. I wanted to know what it would be, I suddenly longed for someone who didn’t know of me, and that had probably forgotten me as I was so irrelevant to their lives. I wanted to know all about them, be with them, and to think they’d probably want nothing to do with me was… agonizing to say the least.

“Adrian what’s wrong?” Christy questioned. I perked up my head, looking to her as if I ad just awoken from a thousand years of slumber.

“Just overthinking darling, I’ll be fine.” I replied with such grace that if it weren’t Chasity I were talking to they would’ve bought it completely. She sat at the edge of bed, crossing her arms, finding it uncomfortable and putting them onto her lap as she awkwardly pulled bunches of her skirt in and out of her hands, worrying about me.

“They’d care about you if they really knew you, if that was what your were worrying about.” She said, reading my mind. I gaped at her, sitting up right and leaning on my elbows that were digging into my sister’s puffy mattress that suddenly had to support two people after going untouched for so long.

“How are you so sure?” I asked, she reached out a hand, giving me her reassuring smile with her knowing eyes.

“Because they aren’t cruel, or gruesome, they’re more human than anyone else we know, and would love to know you. I promise.” She said.

I took her hand in mine, intertwining the fingers, and squeezing it, to show that I understood her words.


	6. ~*6*~

The journey to the other side of the hallway to my brother’s infamous bedroom wasn’t going to be as smooth as I had hoped. Chasity and I weren’t eight years old anymore, where our clothes were up to our ankles that summer and we were too restless to be fit for new ones. We would run along the grounds of our estates into the woods for adventure after adventure, coming back with rocks that we would name, bringing them to and from the forest on our adventures as we worked alongside one another with fairies or pirates. Making our own pirate marks with sticks in dirt along the riverbanks of creeks. Creating our own sets of fairy wings with large leaves we found, mending them together and pretending they were our own with magic wands of twisted twigs on the dirt ground that fed our imaginations. In those days I didn’t even know of my siblings, barely payed attention not the muttering of my brother’s name that my father cursed with. It wasn’t until I was hit for the first time that I understood what it was and questioned it. Now we were older, our robes fitted, destinies we wanted to destroy and resented with everything we had, and a hallway to cross as if it were jumping over a deadly drop so high the bottom couldn’t be seen.

I poked my head out into the hallway, Chasity poking it out the other way. We looked to each other, scared when we saw each other, our faces relaxing and chuckling at the fact. We nodded, flying to the other side as she took the same pin out of her hair and quickly unlocked the door. We landed inside the bedroom, closing the door behind us so efficiently we were out of breath, side by side with romantic tension settling in as we giggled, leaning on the door and looking at each other. The laughter soon plummeted, and became the staring of one looking into the other’s eyes as if they were stars in the night sky. A look I found mutual between the both of us as we stared, almost leading me to believe our feelings towards the other were mutually romantic.

The pining I had for her had been for so long, I wanted to cancel the wedding and elope right then and there. My desires had taken the best of me, because the next thing I knew I was unknowingly cupping her jaw, her breath heavy as she looked down and up into my eyes. If it were my brother’s room, I knew that it would have a much less elegant past like my sister’s, and that kissing a to-be-wed woman wouldn’t be as much as a sin as my father hitting me.

But it was her who stood on her toes to bring our lips together.

I’d never kissed anyone before, she was the only girl I had ever liked. It felt like champagne make of stars, bursting out and flying over the sky like the mid-summer star showers late in the night. It felt like the stories of _Carnival_ in Venice, the excitement, the energy, the freedom and love and celebration in the air making only that moment matter above all others. I hadn’t realized how much I wanted Chasity to be mine until that moment as well, and as we kissed I found myself wanting to kiss her more and more, forgetting about her arranged marriage.

It was me who pulled away, and she looked at me as scared as I did her when she opened her eyes.

“D-Did I do something wrong?” She asked, the uneasiness in her voice made my hands quiver. I looked to her, trying to keep the wrong words in and form the right words into sentences to say.

“N-No. This… is just so wrong isn’t it? You’re to be married in a few weeks time, to have an affair? God I’d turn into my father.” I said, my eyes were wide with fear. Chasity’s hands fell into mine, a pleading look in her eyes, a chance for her to have a chance at a life she wanted, a life _we_ wanted. One that we never knew the other also wanted.

“But, think about it Dri! We could elope, and run away to the American colonies. Never to be seen again. We would be able to have what we want. What’s wrong with that? You and I both know how horrid the situations we are put in. Why not break it, like your brother, or your sister.” She stated. My heart broke at the pleading, at the begging undertones.

She was trapped, sorrowful about how she was forced and trying to find a way out. The guilt to use the mutual feeling for freedom was so present she wanted to make sure of it. I looked to her, realizing that she was putting herself first. The way she did that always amazed me, as I could never put myself before others. She knew this all too well, and was apologizing in her tone of using it, but alas she also knew that she was all I really had left.

I furrowed my brow at the realization.

“A-Are you trying to use me for a free life?” I asked. She furrowed her brow, realizing what she was letting out.

“What? No! Adrian, not at all, I thought you didn’t want a life here. I thought you wanted to run away.” She said. My hands were shaking at a rapid pace in hers, and I let go, brushing them against my trousers. The wrong words had fallen out, the control was unknown.

“I do, but sometimes you must look past the end of your nose.” I said.

“That’s not a way to talk to a lady.” She said, I scoffed.

“Not like you considered yourself one anyway.” I worked back. She looked at me with gorging eyes, shocked it even came out of my mouth. If it were coming out then, it had to. No other time would allow it to.

“I thought you were in love with me.” She said. I sighed, wanting to run away. I wanted to fix it, and for the odd reason I couldn’t.

“I am.” I stated truthfully, avoiding eye contact.

“Than why don’t you want it?” She asked. I had no answer to give her, and so I did the only thing I could do. I shrugged my shoulders, turning from her to the room ahead of us, agreeing silently to drop the subject.

The only girl I ever had a chance with, and the chance was gone.

I let out a hoarse sigh as I looked to the world of my brother around me.

The ceilings had golden decals, the room a mirror image of my sisters, with a few differences. The bedding was a navy color with silk and lace, golden trims and streams along it’s mid-hems. Large pillows, dusted and tinted yellow with age like my heroine sister’s sat against a dark headboard. There was a flask on the bedside table, and a messy array of parchment under it. A quill stuck up out of a dried ink bottle, and a pocket watch propped open, it’s golden chain draping over the side. A large dresser stood to the right of the bed, an empty vase sat atop it.A large window was across the bed, drapes that were dusted, letting in sunlight, navy blue like the bedspread to match. The carpet had the same elegance as the bedding, and the armoire with a golden trim, which I had assumed had fancier waistcoats aging to the early seventeen twenties on the inside.

There were no books or bookcases to be seen. Just a bastard-like boy’s adolescent bedroom, trying to find a courtship to suffice him into marriage, only in this case he wanted a courtship with his best friend of the same sex, which was illegal and many would find, immoral. There was a mirror above the dresser, to which I looked into out of interest. It was as dusty as the drapes that framed the window, and I didn’t look back. Chasity sifted through the drawers of the bedside table, finding more letters in the scowling handwriting that only I could read. I quickly realized this would make us have to talk to one another. My breath sped its tempo as the thought came across, and Chasity’s most opened for words to fall out in a more organized fashion than my own. Not out of willingness either, just out of determination to find the answers we didn’t have as we were raised to be greedy aristocrats.

“Can you read this?” She asked.

I walked over to her, taking the letter out of her hand and reading it carefully, making sure to get the details right. It was a letter about a boarding school, a famous one called Eton, and by the looks of it my brother had been kicked out for fornicating with an other boy at the school. The letter seemed to be too lax to be written to anyone formally, and that’s when I realized the name it was addressed to at the top. _My Dearest, Percy…_ He talked of a cracked rib, and I gulped, realizing it. He talked of Felicity and her confusion, back talking of her annoyance to his existence and adding his own flirtatious swirl on the words to his, (from reading the date, it seemed as though they were only best friends and not lovers yet.) I sighed, understanding that he was on house arrest for two weeks and that he couldn’t see Percy because of speculation, which, I knew my mother wouldn’t have let on for so long considering the annoyance my father had of him being around and his prediction in the letter. Knowing my mother, it would have slid, and it wouldn’t have been pretty but forced.

I looked up to Chasity, the pain in her eyes forgivable, but I barely processed what she had offered earlier, and so, I kept quiet.

“He got expelled from Eton. That’s why his rib was cracked by my father.” I summarized.

“Who was it to?” She asked solemnly.

“Percy,” I replied in the same tone.

“I bet he was on house arrest, what was he expelled for?” She asked, leaning on the dusty bed, not caring about it, she could brush it off later.

“He was, he was expelled for fornicating and flirting with another boy.” I said. She raised a brow.

“Any specific notation on it?” She asked, interested. I shook my head.

“No, but he was very flirtatious to Percy.” I said. She smiled.

“Of course, what’s Monty without Percy attached willingly at his hip by romance?” She asked. I couldn’t hide the smile.

“There’s nothing in here, come on.” She urged. I nodded, handing the letter back to her, whilst our hands brushed against one another, and the tingling sensation fulfilled me once more. She blushed at me, and I blushed back. It didn’t help to know of mutual feelings, and it being the cause not to act on them.

“Let’s go outside, we can plan more abruptly there in the shade of that lovely tree.” I said, carelessly opening the door. She chuckled, and without warning Sinclair stood before Felicity’s bedroom door with another maid, and me and Chasity looked at one another, she pulled out her pin, attempting to lock the door again while standing forward without him seeing. But he turned around on cue, and raised an eyebrow.

“As suspected, it was these two scoundrels.” He commented.

“We seem to be less of scoundrels than you are led to believe.” I retorted, somehow his thin, tempting eyebrow raised higher into his wrinkly forehead.

“Would you like to repeat that to your father?” he asked. I shook my head and gulped.

“No sir,” I stated.

“I didn’t think so. What were you doing in the spare bedroom?” He asked, carefully articulating his words to curve the truth. It wasn’t spare, it was a cell of the past, not meant to be open ever again for the fact that I’m not supposed to know who Felicity is.

“Well, it’s been there my entire life and it’s only been locked. I feel that my curiosity should be catered to at times, and to do it without a colleague would make it far less pleasing.” I said. Sinclair scoffed. 

“You are a terrible liar, Mr. Montague.” Sinclair stated

“It’s true my good sir, Adrian wouldn’t lie under intimidation, I’m sure you’ve seen it yourself.” Chasity but in, I silently thanked the lord above for her comment. Sinclair looked to the maid, who hid her smirk and nodded.

“We haven’t taken anything either.” I noted.

“Make sure of it.” He muttered to the maid, who nodded. She wouldn’t have said if we did or didn’t to him, because every maid in the household hated Sinclair as much as Chasity and I did our whole lives.

“This is your only strike, any more odd activity during the week Mr. Montague, Miss Lenette, I will contact both your parents.” He said. We both nodded as I heard a click, subconsciously smiling at Chasity and her work of locking doors with her hands behind her back.

“Well, be gone!” he said. We hustled down the other end of the hall, Chasity putting her pin back above her ear as I led the way to the garden. Once we were outside, we let out vast fits of laughter contained about the situation.

“Sinclair is an absolute frog.” I said.

“One too dry as well, not fit to live in the pond.” She commented. I chuckled at the comment, nodding as I sat on the bench beside our regular tree. Chasity sat on the other end, putting her foot onto the bench and sitting in the most ludicrous position for a woman wearing a skirt. I looked at her, not questioning it but looking at her smile and how it flashed as she sat in her odd way before she put her leg down.

“So… now what?” I asked.

“Well, a letter is to be written correct?” She asked curiously. I had almost forgotten about it in my fit of anxiety towards our encounter with Sinclair. I looked to her with bugged eyes, nodding.

“Yes, but shouldn’t we conjure a plan first, then write the letter as we would have a fuller understanding of what to write in the first place?” I asked. She nodded.

“There you go, now you’re thinking.” She said, I blushed.

“How shall this plan… rather what should this plan even be?” I asked. She hummed, looking to the art that was the sky. How the hues of blues flooded our senses, a wonder we barely knew of and admired so graciously.

“Well, are you going to leave physically to find your brother?” She asked. I raised a brow.

“I can do that?” I asked.

“As long as you’re a european male, you can do anything.” She noted. I apologized with my eyes to her, she ignored it with her fake facial expression.

“Maybe I can go to my brother.” I said. “He must let me stay with him.”

“Hopefully, when would you leave?” She asked. I shrugged, my eyes meeting hers.

“Your wedding is soon, isn’t it?” I asked. Her smile fell at the thought of the hell of a day that was edging near, not in either of our favor.

We never willingly talked about the day the world would turn upside down. Mostly, people would sing that song, a way of symbolizing Chasity’s life changing for what they’d believe was the better but really would be imprisoning her into a world she wouldn’t want. To elope with her would be… immoral. My boundaries needed to be respected as well as hers. Though I’d elope with her on a whim, if she wasn’t already to be married, and if we had a real place to go, if only the situation was better, and if only I wasn’t so terrified, I would.

“Please be the best man.” She pleaded.

“If I weren’t, I’d be offended.” I replied.

“A month from today, gives you time to scarcely pack and call a carriage to London.” She said.

“But… Chas, I’d have to write a letter to my father, wouldn’t I?” I asked. She sighed.

“If you have that kind of guilt, sure. But it’s only here to London, it’s a day’s long ride.” She stated. I sighed.

“I don’t want to go without you.” I said.

“But alas, since you are so terrified to elope with an engaged woman, you must. I am to find the address of where I’ll be residing with Carl for the rest of my days soon enough, and I’ll hand it over as soon as you can. Maybe you can save me.” She said. I chuckled.

“I thought you hated the idea of a knight in shining armor.” I stated. She blushed.

“Sometimes you can’t be alone in your own story. I wouldn’t be anything without you, Adrian.” She stated. The words made my heart flutter, she had forgiven me quickly. She took my hand into hers, wrapping her fingers around mind, but not intertwining them.

“After the reception, say you need to get some air, and by that point we could hide your bag out here. You can pick it up and leave in your robes. You’ll be free. Everyone would be too drunk to notice you’re gone.” She said. I sighed, looking to her.

“I have to write to my brother.” I said. She smirked.

“We both know that you’d be going to him regardless of his wishes.” She said. I smiled.

“Oh how right you are, my dear Alphonse.”


	7. ~*7*~

_Dear Monty,_

The quill was in my hand the next day, I sat at the desk in the spare office in the manor. I resided there with the vast amount of books to distract me when I was younger, when I had started being hit by my father. I tapped the quill against my temple in a set time, trying to know where to start. Monty hasn’t seen me since I was three months old, he doesn’t expect me to know that I have a brother, or siblings in general, I imagine. Chasity was with her mother today, wedding planning. I knew for a fact that she would be coming to me tomorrow, annoyed as ever, angry and unhappy, complaining about dresses. She had to dress up. Carl would have to approve the dress as well, something she would never agree to. She didn’t even want to get married, and it wasn’t fair to her.

I tried to conjure up an introduction that Chasity would have already planned to write. She would already know. She had been thinking about this letter since we met Mr. Powell and his privateers. The candlelight beside my paper was shining, it was dark out. I had been resided here all day, a single maid checking on me since after dinner, a childhood friend, reminding me of the time.

_Father never told me about either yourself or our sister Felicity, her I found out about with my close colleague, Chasity, whom I am helplessly in love with, like you and Percy._

I felt as thought he would be understandingly confused with that introduction, but he wouldn’t stop reading, which was an achievement in itself. Like a novel, only a reality. The door was knocked on, the maid coming again with a smile, holding a candle of her own as her broom leaned against the wall opposite in the hallway.

“The time is five past eight.” She said. I smiled up at her, she was young, her mother was also a maid, and her father close to mine. I used to play with her when I was young, until my father yelled at me for doing so. She wasn’t mad, she understood. It was madness in my eyes. Her mother was from Spain, her father Scotland, the’ve worked for my family for years here. My father was just ignorant.

“Thank you Ana, again.” I said, smiling.

“If you need anything sir, I’ll be sweeping in the next hall to the right.” She informed. I smiled.

“You needn’t call me sir, call me Adrian please, I dislike my father as much as you.” I pled.

“No problem, Adrian,” She said, taking her broom and her long dark hair whipped behind her as she left, closing the door behind her. I chuckled, thinking back to my letter, beginning to write more.

_To wonder about how I acquired this information, or why I’m writing this letter to you is reasonable. I imagine our childhoods were similar, I only learned about you because of my curiosity of the person my father cursed as “Henry” when I was ten years of age as he started to beat me to make me more mature than I really was, my innocence beat out of me, apparently, just like how the bloodstain on the floor appeared._

I imagined he would understand. To try and get into the mind of my brother wasn’t something easy. Especially since I never knew him, and only knew of him. Scipio gave me a considerable example of both my siblings, and it was a sin that I didn’t get more time to talk with him. I realized my hand was shaky with the quill as I dipped it into the inkwell for more ink to write with.

_Not only have I been beat to the ground, wracked with fidgeting hands out of fear to nearly every person I’ve met because of it, when I was in London, my father and I were in a casino and you were our dealer. He rushed me out of there before I could question it. I’ve never been back to London since. How I got this corresponding address is from your colleagues Scipio and Ebrahim, from Mr. Powell’s fleet. Chasity and I had tried to find more information of you and Felicity, after our father left to London but the other day as a way to ignore the destinies bestowed upon us for eternity. She reminded Scipio of our sister, the same intellect and personality it seemed. Chasity is to be wed in a few weeks, and neither of us are very joyous about it, as we both have romantic feelings toward another. But I find it immoral to elope with a “taken” woman._

I decided that the letter was leading to a dead end, decontextualized. My handwriting was worse than it usually was, and if Chasity were there she would have started rewriting the letter in her handwriting, asking me what I wanted on the page whilst I tried to calm down my hands that seemed to have a mind of their own.

_Since Father has left, we have gone into the office, finding the letters you sent them after your tour, concluding you wouldn’t be coming home but that you were all alive. That lead us to more curiosity. We went to Mr. Powell, conveniently, your colleagues were there, and introduced themselves as such and we had a discussion about you, Percy, and Felicity. Do not worry, no secrets that are to be kept from Mr. Powell were kept to their privacy. Scipio then took me to the side, talking to me and giving the correspondence out of sympathy and gladness. Then, Felicity and I ran back to the manor to the locked bedrooms next to mine, sneaking in them and learning more about the both of you just by the decor. It was an informational day, and I knew that older siblings were to lead by example to their younger brethren, so why not plan to run away?_

I smiled at the end, thinking he’d be proud of the clever nod to the fact that neither of them were there to lead by example until I learned of what had actually happened. The candle was nearly burnt out, and I took the lighter I had found leaning up against and and flickered it on, refueling the flame and letting the brighter glow drip more wax onto the dish it sat on. I sighed, making the flame dance from the forced air. I looked down to the parchment, taking the quill and refueling it like the fire, ready to write more for my brother to read.

_I hope that this letter reaches you before I, as I am planning to come to you in London to finally meet you, inform you of the rigorous life I have led, and the fact that I want to start over. If you could be so kind, may you let me stay with you, as I haven’t anywhere else to go. I can’t afford to go to Algiers and find our sister on nothing, as I can only steal so much from our father without him noticing. If you could help me out, that would be virtuous, and i hope you are aware that I don’t mind of your sexual preference, nor are bothered by you and Percy staying together. I find it rather hopeful for myself that I will have Chasity in my life without her arranged husband as my own one day. I suppose that if it comes it will come though, and that I can’t force it after I leave her reception as we planned the day before this one._

I sighed at the fact; after I left I probably wouldn’t see Chasity until her deathbed. I wished silently that Carl would leave before either of us turned too old. She would be in Paris, with children she never wanted to bear with a manshe never wanted to marry. She never minded kids, but she never wanted to have any with a man she didn’t love. Her mother knew of her wishes, so why didn’t she contend to them is beyond my eyes. If she thought Chasity wouldn’t find a boy to love her, she is as oblivious as my brother, or if she didn’t want her marrying a Montague, and the weight that would entail from my siblings. I could only dream, and chuckle at a thought of kissing her when the priest says to before Carl does. Only, it’d be illegal and horrid.

_I hope you are well and that the upcoming summer weather is treating you well. I also hope that Percy is well, and send my and his father’s regards to him if I haven’t noted that already. Don’t bother writing back, as I’ll be gone by the time this letter would get to you. Though, if you did you’d be in for it by an angry letter from father, or a hopeful dose of continued ignorance. Either way, your secrets are kept with me and won’t be left here. I’ll be seeing you soon brother, and I hope you don’t mind it._

There was a single debate as I signed off the letter, and I smiled at the ultimate decision.

_Your Brother, The Goblin_

I put the quill into the inkwell, letting it soak in the black liquid as I blew over the final inking I had written to dry it. I tapped such writing with my finger, slight remains of wet ink sticking to it. I shrugged it off, deciding it was dry enough to fold. I folded it once, then once more. I flipped the envelope I had found in a nearby drawer hours ago over, taking my quill and dropping the excess ink back into its’ well, and laying it across the desk in front of me.

I reached over to my left breast pocket, taking out the paper Scipio had given me, placing it to the candle side of the desk, by the parchment of the envelope. I picked up my quill once more, copying the address in the middle and blowing on it to cool it off. I took the postage stamp I had found along with the envelope, licking the back and sticking it to the envelope’s corner with ease.

Once this was done, I took the letter and put it into the envelope I had addressed. I took the wax stamp, placing it into the mahogany colored wax and sealed the letter with it, so it could be sent without fear of the letter falling out. I didn’t bother writing a return address, keeping my promise in the letter. Ana had come back, herb room with her.

“Adrian, it’s nine I think you must be done for the night.” She said. I smiled up at her, closing the wax case and putting the stationary I had used back into the desk drawers.

“Yes, I’ll be coming. Can you do me a favor for me Ana?” I asked. She hummed, coming not the office with curiosity, standing over the desk. I held out the letter to her, and she raised a brow.

“Can you sneak that into tomorrow’s post for me?” I asked. She smiled, nodding.

“What’s in it for me?” She asked sarcastically. I gulped, and she laughed.

“I’m joking, of course I’ll do it Adrian don’t worry.” She assured, taking the letter off the desk and reading the back out of curiosity, raising a brow.

“Henry Montague?” She asked, I hushed her soon after, and her eyes widened.

“You learned about him?” She asked, whispering.

“You knew about him?” I asked. She smirked.

“My father talked of him when I was young, saying how he pitied you for being beaten as you didn’t commit to such sin as your brother did. I barely know a thing though.” She said, pocketing the letter in her petticoat for the next day’s deed. I sighed.

“I think it’s pretty cool that you’re writing to him though.” She said, I nodded.

“I think I have every right to correspond with him.” I said.

“As do I, he’s still your brother. Neither of your parents should keep you from him, no matter how scandalous he was.” She said. I smiled.

“I”m glad you feel that way Ana.” I said, she blushed, the candle lighting up her face for me to see it.

“Tell Chasity I say hello, I will be working at the wedding, making sure you don’t get too wasted.” She assured. I smiled.

“Thank you again Ana.” I said. She smiled with her chin up, turning to the hallway.

“No problem, rich boy,” She said, teasing me of the old nickname. I chuckled, standing up with the candle in my hand.

“None of us are too rich, if you think about it.” I said. She shrugged.

“Though when it comes to societal worth, you are rich.” She noted. I sighed.

“Not all too proud of it,” I said. She smiled once more, looking with serious at me.

“Makes you no different to anyone else in my eyes.” She assured.

“Makes you no different in mine either.” I said. She nodded.

“I know, you told me that once before.” She said, reminiscing.

“Get a good rest, okay? I’ll see you around.” I declared.

“I’ll see you as well.” She said. I knew it would be the last real conversation I’d have with her before I left, and since I had her trust, I needed to ask one more favor.

“Ana?” I asked. She turned around before she left.

“Yeah rich boy?” She asked.

“Can you cover for me when I run?” I asked. She let out a heavy sigh, looking to me as if she knew it would happen eventually.

“Yes,” She said. Nodding and holding her broom, “Yes, I will.”

“I wish I could repay you.” I said.

“Being a friend is good enough. I know the strings tied at our fingers will intertwine again.” She said. I smiled, going over to hug her. She was taller than me, but that didn’t matter.

“Thank you Ana.” I said.

“No problem, Dri,”


	8. ~*8*~

After my father had decided to come home the next week, Chasity and I realized that we had two weeks together until we would only letters to one another as our way of contact. Though it seems that it’s not the end of the world since we are able to correspond, it isn’t the same as it would be if we were physically together for the rest of our lives like our childhood together. We sat on the bench, my left arm bruised from my father, and her putting pressure on my opposite’s hand deep cut in my palm. I wasn’t shivering anymore, though I wasn’t calm either. The grey area that had no name, and the world, colorless around me, wanted to be seen for what it truly was: colorful. The color had been drained for years, as the pain and arrogance settled instead of happiness and laughter. I looked in corners of my life for it, tried to let it flow back in through the cracks like light. Though, light and color were similar but not the same.

I’d learned color was hard to find when you couldn’t find it.

“He really did it bad today, what was this from?” She asked, her knuckles were white from putting pressure on my wound. “This may need stitches.”

“He had taken a letter opener and decided that it was what I had deserved.” I said solemnly. She raised an eyebrow, applying her other hand to the job as it sat between us.

“What did you do?” She asked.

“Stutter, and then I questioned him, and talked back to him. He also didn’t sleep well last night because of mother being unwell, so he isn’t in the best of sorts.” I said. She looked at me as if I were serious, and went back to the wound, taking the cotton off and checking the cut. I squirmed at the sight.

“Oh calm down, it’s only blood.” She said.

“It’s odd” I declared.

“It might need to be stitched. But I’m not your sister, so we may have to sneak into her room once more.” She said. I looked to her, fear filling my light eyes instead of their water-like color.

“What if Sinclair catches us?” I asked. She shrugged.

“He won’t, he is attached to your father’s hip. And from what you said earlier, you won’t be seeing either of them until tomorrow so, it’s best to figure this out now before you bleed out.” She said. I gulped.

“B-Bleed out?” I asked, she shrugged.

“May I remind you that I’m not your sister and so I don’t know,” She repeated, making me sigh out of fear.

She took me by the same hand that was being pressed with cotton and led me through the house, avoiding my father’s office and up to the bedrooms. She kneeled down, continuing to hold my hand tightly and took the pin out of her hair, swiftly unlocking the door into the bedroom. She pulled me inside the elegant room, sitting me on the vanity stool as she searched through it’s drawers to find unused cotton, pulling the old, bloody one off my hand and quickly pressed it to my hand afterword.

“Keep pressure on it, I’m going to figure out how to do this. If you start to feel dizzy, I’ll get you something.” She said. I nodded, looking up and down the walls as she ran to the bookcase, taking out book after book and flipping through chapter indexes to find a way to stitch my hand shut without infection.

My eyes wandered over to her, her body moving from book to book after she took off the replaced covers to open them easily. Her eyes we filled with seriousness, and a hint of fear. They were a beautiful shade of brown, and they made her pale skin pop. Her hair was curled brown, falling to the lower middle of her back when just down, but today it was pushed into an elaborate braid, hanging on the left side of her neck. Her beauty didn’t compare to her actual self, something I loved more. It was just a bonus that she was attractive, though Carl liked her for her looks, not liking her personality. I knew I’d be a better husband to her than Carl. I also thought that she knew it too.

She had her teal skirt bunched in her fist as she hurried to me with a book flat open in her bloody palm from my hand.

She dug through the vanity drawers once more, plopping the book onto the carpeted ground organized notes on parchment in-between the pages. She found black thread, and a cloth bandage with a safety pin.

“Thank God for your sister keeping her notes of stitches in here.” She said, taking my bloody left hand into her own left hand, then leaving it to fall into the abyss of air between us as she quickly pulled thread over itself to thicken it and put it through the needle. She took my hand again, reading the first note over and over again, finding the end of the cut in my palm and looking up to me.

“This is going to hurt, but first hand me some cotton.” She said. I handed her one more ball, and she spat into it, dabbing it against the cut. It stung as she cleaned it, then put it into the pile beside the other bloody cotton swabs atop the dresser.

“I hope you don’t forget me after I leave.” I said. She laughed, pushing the needle into my palm, making me squeal out of pain.

“How could I forget the only boy I was ever attracted to? Also sorry, I can’t help it.” She added. I sighed.

“It’s just hard to grasp. I’m never going to see you again.” I said. She chuckled.

“I don’t think it will be never. I think it’s only going to be a long time.” She said, reading the next note and pulling the thread.

“You’ll have to pull these out the morning of your wedding.” I said. She shook her head.

“No, I’ll give you this paper, keep it on you. Four weeks from today you can take them out. If they are still a tad red, make it another week. If for three weeks it’s still red, you’ll need to find a doctor, as it says.” She said, reading from the paper. Her eyes met mine, just as wide. I looked to her lips and sighed as she continued to stitch.

“If only you proposed,” She said, laughing.

“I was fifteen, and my father wouldn’t allow me.” I recoiled. She only laughed more, somehow keeping her hands steady around mine.

“I know, I hate wedding planning. You’re going to hate my dress as much as I.” She commented. I nodded, chuckling.

“If I were to marry you, I’d let you have full control.” I declared.

“That’s exactly why, you let me be free and you don’t force me anything. You enjoy me for who I am. You enjoy people for who they are Adrian, please, never let that go.” She said, stopping the stitching, blood was falling into the crevices of my hand, and I nodded.

“I won’t. I promise.” I said. She continued to stare into my eyes, and if there wasn’t blood or an idle in my hand mid-stitch, she would have kissed me.

She continued to stitch my palm shut, doing it with ease thanks to my sister’s notes.

She took a cotton swab and spat into it once more, wiping the excess blood away from my palm, examining it for infection or anything wrong. She smiled at it, holding it up and showing me. A line of black thread wrapping my skin together was spread across almost the whole of my palm. I shivered at the sight, and she quickly put it into her lap, wrapping it with a clean bandage, and pinning it into place securely.

“Before you go, I’ll re-wrap them with extra support. This should be fine for now.” She assured, leaving my hand in my lap as she put the book away where she found it, putting the book sleeve around it and coming over to the vanity.

I just stared at my palm, wondering how my crush and just sewn my hand back together. I smiled up at her, trying to portray a dashing smile without it twitching. She only chuckled as she finished, putting her hands on her hips knowingly. She hesitantly held her hands out and wrapped them around my head, kissing the top of my hair and moving her hands to hold mine.

“You may not be mine, and I may not be yours, but that doesn’t mean we deny feelings, okay?” She asked. I looked up to her.

“It’s going to be odd, you know. Losing the only color I ever had in my life.” I said, holding her hands with the grip I had. She sighed, sympathy in her dark eyes.

“But you have a chance to regain color, I never will.” She said. I shrugged.

“I don’t like to think like that, I think you’ll find color. You just seem to dwell on forced situation. You wonder how my mother isn’t angry all the time, in her position. She does what she can to make herself glad. I say if you’re going to lose color, you should try and make some for yourself until I come back.” I said. She paused, comprehending the words I had let fly out of my mouth, into the air in front of me for her to hear. The silence that fell was weightless, weightless, and unreadable.

“I think that’s why you bring me color. Even if you are privileged because of your sex, you make the best out of your pain. No matter how much pain you father hurts you, or how much it comes to haunt you, somehow you are still somewhat joyous.” She noted. I smiled, blushing at the compliment. It was true, but the reality of it was that I made color out of seeing her, the highlight, the person I looked forward to the most.

“But you see, you are the producer of my color, Chas. You make it possible for me to make it. I can’t without you here, you make me happy, you help me. You have color too, you just dwell on things you can’t control to gain it. Until I see you again, won’t you work on that?” I asked. She sighed, looking at me with the eyes of hers that I wouldn’t see for such a while two weeks from then.

She moved closer to me, on her knees on the ground as I sat on the small vanity stool. I pat my lap, a notion for her to sit atop me. She rolled her eyes, nodding and standing up. I held my arms out, and she sat on my lap, her legs falling to the other side of me. My arm kept her in place, instead of my bloody hand. I grunted, she laughed, taking my healthy hand into her own.

“You’re a lot heavier than when we were eight.” I said. She rolled her eyes.

“You’re not too bad yourself, darling.” She said. I chuckled. She leaned her head on mine, wrapping her arms around my neck and sighing. As I leaned back on the vanity, for us to be more comfortable, she looked to me, smiling.

“I’m glad you’re going to find Monty and Percy.” She said. I smiled.

“So am I.” I said. Silence fell between us once more, the only sound was the occasional footsteps in the hall.

“Ana sends her regards.” I said. She smiled.

“I’m going to miss her greatly. She was a great friend.” She said. I nodded.

“She’s going to help cover.” I said.

“So will I.” She replied. I looked to her, her eyes looking to mine. To kiss her in that moment would have been appropriate, and I sighed. Every last moment to kiss her would be wasted ifI didn’t. Her consent was in place, the lawful aspect of it, illegal. She looked to me, her eyes screaming that I didn’t have to if I didn’t want to. I only nodded, closing my eyes.

She put her lips to mine, and I returned the favor.

This time, she was the first to pull away.

“This still doesn’t feel right.” I said, she raised an eyebrow.

“How so?” She asked.

“It feels, internally wonderful and I wouldn’t trade it for anything else. Though, this is lawfully wrong. I’m technically having an affair with you.” I said. She sighed.

“I know, I feel guilty too.” She said. I sighed of relief, somehow. She held onto me, looking up at the elegant ceiling of my sister’s childhood room.

“Though, in the light of politics, women don’t have a say in who they marry. You wouldn’t be allowed to even if you tried, your father wouldn’t dare let it. Your mother might've though, only she has no lawful say in nearly anything. I don’t want Carl, and Carl doesn’t seem to like me all too much either. I would enjoy being with you, as much as you being with me, though you are correct, this is having an affair. But may I remind you I’ve never kissed Carl in my life. He’s marrying me for societal status. Not for love, and in my mind, I find it stupid and purposeless. I don’t want to have an affair with you, I want to love you freely. Sadly, the world doesn’t agree on either of our fronts.” She went on. I sighed, resting my head in the crook of her neck. She sighed, running her hands through my hair to calm the both of us down.

“I’m sorry the world discriminates you because of a difference in body. I wish it were more in your favor.” I spoke, she smiled, hugging tighter and looking down at me.

“I’m sorry the universe won’t let you escape the pain the world decided to bear unto you.” She replied. I leaned into her more, my bandaged hand wrapped gently around her arm.

The sun shown through the windows as we rid out the afternoon alone in silence, in my sister’s abandoned bedroom in secrecy.


	9. ~*9*~

The next two weeks had become a mess of wedding preparation for Chasity, causing me to barely see her. When I did see her, we mutually agreed to talk about the letter I had sent to my brother, how the sky could’ve been blue, and discovering secrets the world had let us believe were false. The things we had always done, the things we wouldn’t be able to do ever again after she was to be wed. Afterward, she would have a hopeless honeymoon in Italy, and then to return to Paris to only host parties for the socialites of the city and deal with her husband’s agony and probable drinking and gambling problem, never to be sober. In two years time, she would bear his children so they could carry on his titles as his legacy as if they were important and he was a good person. In two years time, I was destined to run an estate I didn’t want to. In two years time, I wanted to be in another place, a better one at that, doing anything but run an estate.

To write a best man’s speech wouldn’t be hard. I sat back at that desk I had written to my brother at, taking the same quill, the same parchment from the same stack, and the same lit candle giving me light after the sun had fallen beneath the horizon. Ana had been giving me time checks every fifteen or so minutes, it had only been an hour when I had finally gotten an idea for the speech. I planned to subtly speak the truth Chasity had told me for the longest time, and pretend I was proud of them and grateful for this achievement in their lives. The worst part would be to ignore the fact that I am heartbroken over this. It would only be my luck the only girl I had ever loved, and frankly the only one that would’ve liked me back and had, is being forced to marry an arrogant French lord instead of me.

I started to scribble what I had planned, smirking and smiling as I did.

_As best man, my congratulations and condolences towards the couple at hand are vibrant. May you both forever be satisfied in one another, and that great health and fortune is brought unto thee by God himself. If disagreement were virtuous, this match may be one made in heaven, but I kid. May love be spread between you two for the great lengths of your lives, and that you spend an eternity of joy with one another._

I chuckled at the paper, Ana popped in, holding her infamous broom.

“Whatcha writing this time? Another letter to your brother?” She had asked. I perked up, sighing.

“Only the best man’s speech of my best friend’s wedding tomorrow.” I said. She nodded, coming into the office and closing the door behind her.

“You don’t mind if I join you, do I?” She asked.

I shook my head, motioning her to come in. I stood up, taking a chair from the left side of the room, pushing it in front of the desk and let her sit. She chuckled, sitting down and crossing her legs under her skirt. Her dark, curled hair fell long past her back, though it fell to her front too, and she has pushed it out of her eyes, letting it fall into the higher of her legs.

“Tomorrow’s the big day, huh?” She asked. I nodded.

“I can’t wait to leave, no offense.” I said. She smiled.

“None taken,” She said.

“If I could bring you, I would.” I sighed, she perked up.

“But, what if you can?!” She asked excitedly. I raised an eyebrow.

“How? You haven’t anywhere to go.” I stated, she shrugged.

“Neither do you. It would let the both of us have a better chance of getting a future we deserve. It can be your way of owing me. Come on Adrian. You can’t leave me here to rot.” She pleaded. I sighed.

“It wouldn’t be fair to Chasity, I could’ve eloped with her and I didn’t for the sake of morality. She would hate me forever.” I stated. She sighed.

“I can talk to her,” She said. I shook my head.

“Impossible, she is having last minute dressings right now, her mother hasn’t let her out of her sight within a week and a half.” I said. She sighed.

“Alright, Alright, she gets first call. You’re right, it isn’t fair.” She said. There was a glimmer in her eye. Such a glimmer could be found in one lying. She wasn’t blinking, trying to seem normal but the problem with trying to act normal to hold subconscious movements, you only provoke them more.

“You’re lying. You still want to come.” I observed. She huffed.

“Any woman would want to leave their situation for a better one Adrian. It’s just what we do,” She said, looking at me in earnest, leaning her elbow on the desk. “Imagine having the only thing society found worthy in you to do in life is to marry someone wealthy and be forced to bare their children? Not only that, but to raise them and probably hate the spouse you were first to marry in the first place. That is what it is like to be a woman.”

I looked at her with a furrowed brow.

“Chasity has explained this in every possible combination to me for the past eight years. From innocent questions when we were young, to full on observations and crying about it when we were one and ten years of age.” I said. She smirked.

“If you can’t help her, you can at least help me.” She said. I sighed. I looked to her, a girl born in a world in which her only job was to marry rich. My job was to stay rich, and try and be revolutionary somehow. Find a purpose in my work. She was hidden because of her sex for eternity, just like Chasity, only in a social class under us.

That’s when I realized I had no means of escape besides running with my back sack I had planned to bring.

“Do you have male’s coach clothes to your disposal?” I asked. She perked up, smiling.

“Yes, why?” She asked.

“After the speeches, and when everyone is just about drunk, I need you to grab a carriage from the back and a horse, enough food and care for it to get to London. I will get enough moneyfor an inn for the both of us to stay in. We will find my brother, and it’ll all be okay. You just need to pretend to be a man.” I said. She chuckled.

“You’re telling me to wear a powdered wig?” She asked. I nodded.

“Yes,” I said. She looked at her hair, weaving her hands through it and shrugging.

“I never liked my hair.” She said, looking at it intently, talking to me but at the same time, the air.

A scene had replayed from our childhood in my memory , we were only nine years of age, and Chasity was at finishing school that year. When she were to come back, she would beg her way out of it. Ana and I were in the garden, playing in the flowers, giving them all obscene backstories and naming them, becoming friends with them and making buildings out of rocks, building kingdoms out of them. Her hair would touch the ground, as she had never got to cut it. She would always point out at my hair, saying she wished hers was the same. She would point to my clothes, wanting to wear them. Her and Chasity were the same in the fact that they both had hated the way women were treated, but Chasity was just ahead of the times. She never minded dresses, she would wear them if she had to, she had a sense of identity in being a strong woman. She never thought outside of her sex.

Ana, unlike Chasity, didn’t feel comfortable with being a woman.

“Why are there boys and girls?” She had asked, we were young and rosy cheeked, my father hadn't found out about our blossoming friendship.

“Because of how they think I believe, or whatever their Mommies raise them as. I think there’s something else to it though.” I had replied.

“I don’t like being a girl.” She said. I chuckled.

“Neither does Chasity.” I said. She giggled, looking at a flat rock, holding it up and sighing. Her voice was higher than it was now, as was mine.

“Not like that. I mean, yes, I do believe what Chasity thinks, but I don’t feel comfortable being a girl, and I know I’m not a boy either. I don’t feel like anything, Adrian. I feel like a person though, what do I call it then if I don’t think I’m a boy or girl?” She had asked. I looked up at her, then to the rocks in front of us as we built a castle. I made a humming sound, picking up a rock we hadn’t named yet. It had cracks running through it, though it wasn’t broken, just uneasy. The texture was its own, no other rock was quite like it.

“I think you should call it rocky.” I said. She smiled.

“I think that’s a good name for it. It isn’t set in stone, like that rock!” She said. I smiled fondly to her.

“You’re a rocky Ana. I like it.” I said. She had chuckled. As my mind had come back to the present, she looked at me, and I could only chuckle back.

“You’re a rocky darling.” I said, she had been holding her curls in her fists. To cut it off would have been a sin, and if she were to be found crossdressing, she would be charged as it was a crime, and she would be executed.

“I remember, but I can’t put on a wig and pull it off like this.” She said. I sighed, looking at her. There was a glimmer in her eye that was pleading. Like something was there, an idea.

Whatever it was, she never stated it.

“Maybe, braid your hair to your head?” I asked. She let out a laugh.

“It doesn’t work well like that Adrian.” She said. I smiled.

“I’ll figure it out, I’m you’re getaway carriage.” She said. I smiled at the thought. I stuck out my hand for her to grab onto. She raised an eyebrow, looking to me confused.

“To a new life, for the both of us,” I said. She smiled. She clasped her hand to me, shaking it.

“To a new life,” She said. If there were champagne available, we would’ve downed the glass. That’s just how she was, she was an all in or all out person. I had always imagined playing poker with her, her strategies would be very rational but much like herself, all or none.

I take the match in front of me, lighting up a new one to relight the dim candle. The fading light between us suddenly reimbursed, lighting up the room much brighter than it had before. She smiled to me, anxiously braiding her hair in the process.

“So… what’s your brother like?” She asked. I looked up to her, my eyes grew of excitement. To talk about someone you were fond of because you barely knew them to someone who found the information with you was one thing. To talk about it to a whole other person was another.

“Well, for starters he’s shorter than both of us, living in unholy matrimony with Percy Newton, a poker dealer in London and went on a Grand Tour and took his opportunity to run away.” I said. She raised an eyebrow.

“He… He’s in love with a man?” She asked, her voice soft with curiosity and shock. I looked to her, scared. She reached her hand across the desk to grasp mine, holding it.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it, but he’s okay? They’re… safe?” She asked, almost excitedly.

“To my knowledge, yes,” I replied. Her gaze was hopeful, not harmful. She seemed proud to know of the information. Suddenly, her brow furrowed, looking at me, as if I had shot a man.

“What?” I asked.

“You just… Adrian you just told me about your brothers’ relationship without his knowing. That wasn’t… respectful or right.” She said, stopping the braid she had made with her hair. I sat there frozen.

“I… I didn’t-“ “I know you didn’t but… it’s not a good thing to tell others of others relationships without their consent to tell them. Regardless of who it is with.” She said. I sat there, nodding. I accepted that I had jumped into it a bit.

“He was kicked out of school for it. He was beat for it, and most of the servants and pretty much everyone in this complex knew about it. I thought… I’m sorry.” I said. She grabbed my hand from across the desk again.

“It’s okay, just. You’re lucky it was me you told and not someone else. I’m glad you trust me enough to tell you about your brother in that way, but Adrian you just need to think before you speak, okay? That’s not a safe or respectful thing to say bluntly.” She said. I sighed, looking down.

“Well, I haven’t had a good teacher to teach me what was right and wrong. That was left for Chasity to teach me.” I said. She sighed.

“Just learn from your mistakes, okay? Chasity isn’t going to necessarily be there like she’s always been. It’s going to be me and you until you steal her back prince charming style or whatever.” She said. I sighed, looking down and wiping my eye. I hadn’t noticed that she wouldn’t be right there. Letters took so long to reach, and I wouldn’t be hearing from her for weeks as we would be traveling.

“I’m sorry Adrian.” She said simply.

“No, it’s okay. I have to get used to it anyway.” I said. She gave me a sympathetic smile.

“I know you don’t want to be your father.” She said, changing the subject. Though, it only made me feel worse from what I had done beforehand.

“Great transition, I just told something out of total blindness to the fact that I shouldn’t, even though you won’t do anything it was still wrong, and it is exactly something my father would do only on purpose because he is a horrid person.” I said. She sighed.

“You just proved that you aren’t him.” She said. I raised an eyebrow.

“How so?” I asked.

“Because you recognized your mistake and are feeling guilt from it, and not to mention, you want to become a better person and learn from it. If I remember your father correctly, he wouldn’t do a thing like that now, would he?”


	10. ~*10*~

The day of the wedding had arrived all too quickly for me. I had wished I was in Slowtown too late. I awoke to Sinclair pushing his drapes open, revealing the blue skies that I would dread to see over a field of everlasting trees and grasslands. I groaned and grabbed my pillow, squirming underneath it to ignore the light that strobed around me to wake up. I didn’t want to wake up that morning. I never did.

“Mr. Montague, you are due to come down to breakfast in your formal attire, Miss Lenette wished to have breakfast with you last minute, and she has no intentions to wait.” He said. My head instantly perked up from the pillow, my blue eyes wide. Sinclair nodded, making me understand it as full truth and no trick.

Once he left, I went to my wardrobe, where the maids had hung up my clothing for the day, before the wedding. I fixed on my navy waistcoat, which had golden decals like a soldier’s uniform, but only meant for fashion. My loafers were polished, and I tousled my hair after putting my hands in the water basin to fix it. I found it acceptable for the formal breakfast. Chasity was never one to disappoint.

I had gotten dressed faster than I had in my life that morning, and surprised Sinclair when I met him as he was walking away from my room only minutes later. He sighed, keeping in one of the rare smiles Sinclair was capable of giving. He led me to a small, unused parlor. One Chasity and I played in when we were only six years old when company came over, and balls took place.

Chasity’s dark hair was knotted into a braid that fell over her left shoulder, the maids somehow got powder onto her cheeks, and maroon lipstick shown on her lips with light makeup. She never needed anything much, unlike every other girl looking for a courtship would that night at her wedding. Her dark eyes were wide when she saw me, a blush coming onto her face, exaggerated by the pale powder. She was in an autumn colored, orange dress with golden lace. It seemed as though it were a ball gown she’d wear to a party our parents’ threw. She looked at me up and down before Sinclair shut the door behind me, leaving us both alone in the windowless room.

I ran over to her, bringing her into my arms.

“You are incredible. You look like you gave into a bribe today.” I commented. She chuckled into my shoulder, looking up to me once I let go.

“My mother and I made a deal.” She said. I smiled as I sat across from her, breakfast in front of us at the small table.

“I thought I wouldn’t see you.” I said. She shook her head, smiling.

“A day without seeing you is a sin my darling.” She said, making me blush.

“It truly is. I feel dreadful that you had to do all this planning by yourself.” I said. She sighed.

“I’d rather control a wedding I would want to be in rather than one I’m forced. My mother had her fun, part of the deal.” She said. I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of the tea ahead of me.

“What was this deal?” I asked.

“If she controls the wedding, I don’t have to bare children to Carl.” She said bluntly. I nearly spit my tea out as I laughed, and she couldn’t help but laugh as well. Soon enough we were laughing in cathedrals of hysterics, just from one small deals he made with her mother.

“That must go down in history. ‘Local aristocrat allows mother to control arranged marriage if said aristocrat doesn’t bare children’ That is your genius, wasn’t it?” I asked. She smiled broadly and nodded.

“If it weren’t I wouldn’t know who it would be.” She said. I smiled, letting out another small laugh, a remnant from before.

“You’re brilliant.” I said. She smiled.

“I suppose,” She replied. “Have you written your speech yet?”

“Yes, it’s dreadfully positive.” I said. She chuckled as she took a sip of her own drink.

“I hope to get wasted after you leave, so I don’t have to live with the fact that you won’t be there to see me get drunk in the first place.” She said. I smiled.

“I’ve only seen you drunk once, it was quite the occasion.” I said. She smiled.

“Yes, it really was, wasn’t it?” She asked. I reminisced on the thought, nodding.

“It’s not like you tried to preform the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet in the garden or anything, dear.” I said. She blushed at the embarrassing moment, waving it away as if her hand were a wing.

“Oh, and you don’t remember when you were wasted? You insisted we played poker by sticking cards to each finger on your hand somehow, and tried to find a potion that would do so.” She scoffed. It was my turn to be embarrassed, as she smirked, crossing her arms across her chest.

“We’ve both had our go. Too bad to see it go.” She said. I nodded, sighing.

“Who knows? Maybe Carl will die in the Austrian war. He is to be sent after your honeymoon on reserve, correct?” I asked. She nodded, shrugging.

“Knowing him he’ll try to bribe his way out, but they won’t let him. I barely know him anyway, but I’d feel bad if I had to see him go. He may be horrid, but at least he means well.” She said. I shrugged, nodding.

“I’m sure he’s seen many a woman during this engagement.” I said.

“I don’t look like I care, do I? He doesn't want to marry me either, it’s a mutual disagreement. He only told me this last night, this whole time I’ve been led to believe that he loved me, how horrible is that?” She asked. My eyes widened to her, sympathy taking over. “It’s just another way of my mother showing me that no man could ever love such a charismatic woman.”

“I love you.” I blurted out.

Silence fell between us as those three words decided to fall out of my mouth unknowingly. She looked at me with such disbelief, but until she fully processed the phrase. That’s when her eyes had grown, to the size to mine after the words fell, and a blush spread across her face. She looked down, playing with the napkin on her lap while her cheek’s color flushed. I felt the heat rise in my own, but with that fear built up in my chest, letting me feel the pain wracked with an ache that wouldn’t go away.

She finally looked up, hiding behind the single curls that framed her face.

“You know, I was trying to understand whether the feeling I felt was love or attraction.” She started, my cheeks cooled once more, but her’s only grew more red, enhanced by the blush-like powder that was painted onto her cheek.

“I think I love you too.” She finished. I looked to her with such yearn, I wanted her hand in mine, and she wanted hers in mine. The world seemed to make it available, but forbidden at the same time.

Another pause of silence flooded between us, adolescent awkwardness affiliated as attraction to one another, unable to be pursued for lawful reasons. I took a long sip of my tea, silently wishing it wasn’t hot.

“I don’t want it to be today.” I said, breaking the ear ringing silence. She shifted in her seat, looking up to me, sighing.

“I don’t want it to be today either.” She said, a servant knocked on the door and walked into the room, motioning for Chasity to go and get ready.

“Give me just a moment, won’t you?” She asked. The servant nodded, bowing his head and ducking out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Chasity stood up, coming over to me and taking her hands in mine before pulling me into a hug. I wrapped my arms around her, there never was a height difference to us, but with my heels on, I was finally taller than her by a small bit. She pulled away, cupping my face with her hands, looking up at me.

“It’s odd to have to look up at you to talk.” She said. I laughed, smiling at her. She remarked at her own joke by laughing as well, though not as sincere as me.

“I know, isn’t it?” I asked. She reached on her toes, kissing my cheek politely before falling back on her flat feet.

“I’ll see you tonight, Adrian.” She said. I looked at her dreamily, sighing.

“I’ll see you tonight, Chasity.” I repeated. Her hands dropped to her sides, turning around and going out into the hall, leaving me alone in the room to stare at the door for the moments after.

 

The parlor of the Lenette estate was as elegant as any aristocratic parlor I had seen. When we were young, we would chase each other around until others would scold at us for doing so. The walls were a pale pink with silver decals and accents. The furniture ancient, passed through generations, but adding their own elegance to the parlor. Seats were set up in rows, leading up to a lit fireplace where a priest stood with a service scripture in his hands. I was following Carl down the aisle, hands folded in front of me as I marched nervously in to the tempo of my own, internal cadence of anxiety. I fell in beside him, his dark hair revealed instead of being hidden under a wig. It was tied with a maroon ribbon in the back, the rest falling onto his matching waistcoat with dark and silver accents with healed shoes, like the ones I had on.

One by one, bridesmaids walked down the aisle, all of them being relatives of Chasity, or local girls who were just needed to be added in. Chasity never talked of them, and I understood why. Their faces were powdered much more than her this morning, the color of their skin tinted so much it was concerning. The false blush on their faces were fabricated through their dark veils. For a spring wedding, they had chosen a dark theme, to say goodbye to winter with one last hurrah.

When Chasity walked down the aisle, my life with her had flashed between my eyes. Her dress was an angelic white, as she held contradicting maroon flowers that matched the outfits of those infant of her, including myself. Her hair was in the same braid it had been in when I saw her that morning, her hair wasn’t powdered like the rest of the women, either for the occasion or not, she would have never. As she walked to the side, she winked at me, handing the flowers to her maid of honor, her cousin Angelica, and took Carl’s hands. The fake smiles they had plastered onto their faces were entertaining, and as Chasity’s mother wept in the front row with her father that I had only met once, they sealed the marriage with a kiss, and my life had fallen apart.

I linked arms with Angelica as I walked back down the parlor to the dressing rooms, parting her at the hall. I ran to the boy’s dressing room, changing out of my maroon robes to a navy waistcoat, one like the one I had on earlier, only more elegant with a golden trim. The plan had been that I would say my speech, witness the first dance, and be walked out of the ball with Chasity to the front gate, where Ana would fatefully drive us both to London. At the moment, she would be grabbing both mine and her belongings minimally, and throwing them into a carriage, feeding a horse and getting ready to depart. Possibly even writing a goodbye letter to her parents for them to read after the party is over.

When we walked out into the ballroom of the Lenette’s, servants of the local estates were scattered around, all in the same clothes regardless of sex, serving champagne. I was pulled to sit on the left side of Carl, and on his right was his ungrateful bride, who would be whisked to her honeymoon and then to Paris for a life of sorrow and confinement. When it was my turn to speak for a speech, I stood up with the awareness of a quiver in my voice and a shake in my breath. I had memorized the speech the night before to help me fall asleep, because God knows that I couldn’t if I tried.

“A-As best man, my congratulations and c-condolences towards the couple a-at hand are vibrant. M-May you both forever be s-satisfied in one another, and that great health and fortune is brought unto th-thee by G-God himself. If disagreement were v-virtuous, this match may be one made in h-heaven, but I k-k-kid. May l-love be spread between you two for the g-great lengths of your lives, and that you spend an e-eternity of joy with one another. To Ch-Chasity and C-Carl, and a long life ahead!” I spoke, raising my glass after I had fallen over and over again over the words I never felt I would speak in my life, and taking a long, heaving sip of champagne in attempt to wash away the feeling of heartbreak I had been accompanied with that evening. Everyone clapped, the bachelors in the back raising their glasses drunkly to me, smirking and cheering, even if we had only known each other from public balls of trying to avoid every woman in the ballroom two years ago. They knew me and my stutter, no matter how drunk they were, they knew.

Frankly, that was how I got through those dreadful thirty minutes of waiting for Chasity to come and whisk me into the garden to see me depart for London.

From tripping over themselves in their army waistcoats, to toasting to one another after trying to find a woman on the floor to court with that evening. They were obnoxious, clinging to one another for support. I knew of them as the four sons. They weren’t brothers, and I was sure two of them were in love with one another, but they clawed their way over to me drunkly. They consisted of a frenchman, a tailor, a scotsman, and a to-be-lawyer. All four of them towered over me at the table I sat at, hanging onto one another.

“Look at that, it’s Adrian Montague.” The scotsman said. I chuckled.

“How are you all enjoying the wedding?” I asked.

“It’s wonderful, look at all these ladies! You should dance with us Adri, it would make it a lot more fun!” The lawyer said. I chuckled once more, looking behind them at the swooning girls looking over.

“Maybe later, I feel the need to be a little more loose to do so.”I said. They looked to one another, smirking.

“Have another drink Mont, you need it.” The tailor said. I looked to Chasity, who was on the right of me, a fair distance away. I sighed, turning around and grabbing my champagne glass and took a heaping sip of it, enough to make the four men in front of me look shocked when it was suddenly empty.

“Woah!” They all said at the same time. I giggled at the facial expressions, letting them distract me for the next ten minutes until I heard the stern, clearing of the throat from the bride of the hour. They all looked to me scared, backing away simultaneously.

“Are you ready, or are you drunk?” She asked. I couldn’t answer, and didn’t have to apparently, as she took my hand into hers as we walked side by side out the door unnoticed, following the path that wove it’s way secretly to the back gate, where no one could be seen and the moon shown bright overhead.

“I have something for you.” She said. I tripped on a rock as she said it, and she caught me. I giggled bubbly, deciding I was partly drunk and partly sober. Sober enough to comprehend, drunk enough not to answer.

“What is it?” I asked loosely. She dipped her hand into her dress, pulling out a piece of parchment and pushed it into my breast pocket. I stared at her confusingly as she kissed my hand with a sigh.

“I’m going to miss you.” She said, her gown was falling behind her, rubbing against the ground and gravel filled path, getting ruined.

“Your gown,” I said. She looked down, and shrugged her shoulders as she wrapped her other arm around me to keep me walking straight.

“It’s just a gown. I won’t fret.” She stated. I smiled fondly to her as we approached the gate, Ana sat on the seat of the carriage, lost in her own mind. She had hid her hair incredibly under the wig, and Chasity didn’t know who it was.

“I love you.” I said drunkly. She blushed at the words, smiling.

“If you weren’t drunk right now, you’d be crying.” She said.

“I’ll be crying every day for you darling, just you wait.” I said, swaying back and forth as she held my hands. She giggled at the words, blushing harder.

“I love you too, Adrian.” She said. My eyes widened at the words, leaning down to put my lips to hers. She pecked me back on the cheek, squeezing my hands.

“‘Til death does me adieu.” She said. If I had been more aware in the moment, she was right, I would have been crying. Maybe it was better that I wasn’t so sober. Maybe it wasn’t. Either way, I kissed her hands this time, smiling.

“’Til death does me adieu, my love.”


End file.
